Desultorus
by EgoSpectre
Summary: When the IdeaSpace breaks, Jack and his friends have to return all of the fictional characters to their respective worlds, while chaos and adventure ensues around them.
1. He's Late

"The largest file size the world could muster was a measly 16 Megabytes."

Jack was alone within the room. He always dreaded these new beginnings. It was always the start of some cacophonous new endeavour, pleasant or short-lived, however it may be, but it was never what he expected it to be. But resolutely, there was no going back. Life did not have an eraser to smooth over the mistakes of the past. A fact of life was sometimes you simply had to deal with the lot you were given, keep your head down and do your best with what you have, not what you wish you had. Jack drank deeply from his cup once more.

Nearly everything in this building had a wood furnish. The floors rapped and snapped when you tip-toed across them, creaking in the right spots, while bleached, weak and weary in others.

Jack noticed the bartender's hands resting upon the dark oak counter. His bony fingers and distended joints, veins and sinews filled Jack with a chilling sense of mortality. Alive though the bartender was, his hands and wrists especially looked sickly. The man was too old to be this skinny, and was surely but a sandwich away from death. Jack distracted himself from the bartender's uncomfortable hands with other finer details of the room.

The lights that hung overhead were dingy. Dusty but luminous at least, with the stray fly buzzing around the halogenic brightness, trying to find a way to peck through the shade and into the inner chamber of the bulb. The walls were much the same wood as the floor, but sturdier, darker, and varnished. Why varnish the walls but not the floors, Jack wondered. Perhaps they had once both been, but people did not walk on walls, and thus the varnish there had not worn out.

Jack was still waiting. For all the time there didn't seem to be in a day, it was doing an awful good job at catching up to him today. A series of rampant all-nighters and hellishly repugnant ordeals full of twisted metal, fire, water, sand and whatever other element that were none to pleasant to be burdened with filled his regular life. Jack could not have caught his breath for five minutes before another troublesome nag arose, but now as he sat alone with a slowly disappearing drink and a humble rabble within the air, he found himself within a very special layer of Hell: The boring one.

It was an entire irksome hour before his consort arrived. A short and rather stout woman in a blaringly obvious white lab coat. She had thin, light brown hair tied in a bun and composed herself with all the confidence of a rabbit.

The woman sat beside Jack, awkwardly resting her briefcase against the legs of the barstool. She didn't make eye-contact with him, but hunched over her back and looked around the tavern.

"Alright, I think we're good." the woman muttered to him, still not looking in his direction. Jack smiled tersely and finished his drink in a few chugs.

The woman turned to look at him now, and looked unsure whether or not she should extend her hand in greeting or just stay as she was.

"H-Hi." she stammered after deciding not to. "My name's Umber. You must be Jack."

"Must I be?" Jack sighed. Umber didn't know how to respond to the question. She looked down and nervously rubbed her hands for a few seconds before continuing.

"The doctor, uh, Doctor Valter." she nodded, staring up at Jack. "He wants to see you."

"You're not Doctor Valter?" Jack asked, turning his body more towards her. His brow sunk and his jaw clenched. Umber's head shook rather incessantly.

"N-No. Sorry, I'm just his assistant. Doctor Valter is, uh-"

Jack cut Umber off by raising his finger. "Doctor Valter wanted to meet with me, yes? He told me to meet him here at 2:00PM sharp, and that he'd have a very promising and very interesting proposition for me. It is now..." Jack glanced to his watch. "3:07. And he sends his assistant to fetch me? Who the hell does this guy think he is?"

Umber tried to stammer out and apology, and began to talk very quickly. "S-Sorry. He's been busy, I mean really busy, like, if I had known this would've happened, of course I would've left sooner, but he just got to me now, and told me "Hey Umber, I need you to meet with this guy", but meanwhile I was like, "Hey, I'm in the middle of something", but he was pretty insistent, so I had to rush over here, and by the time I got here, I uh..."

Jack's hard gaze made her trail off, and she looked down at the floor once more.

"Forget it." Jack said, getting up from the bar stool. Umber audibly gasped, hopping off her bar stool as well.

"Wait! You-You can't leave just yet!"

"Watch me." he grunted, stomping towards the exit.

Umber waddled after him and grabbed his hand before he could leave.

"Jack, really! This is super important, and I mean, if Doctor Valter thinks you're the best man for the job, then there's really no.. ah..."

Jack slowly craned his head to look down upon her. He was close to being a full foot taller than her. Umber shrunk her head into her shoulders, but kept her grip on his hand.

"Let go of me."

Umber shook her head. "You have to help the Doctor! Please?"

"He's an hour late and doesn't even come to meet me himself? He can go to hell for all I care. And so can you!" he tried to tear his hand away from her, but all he did was make her stumble across the floor.

"L-look! Whatever we need to pay you, I'm sure we can work something out. But this is really important to him. He's been working on this project for decades, way before I ever showed up. It can't happen without you!"

Jack squinted. "What project?"

Umber guffawed nervously. "You uh... You're a good finder, right?"

"It's my profession."

"Well... Doctor Valter needs something. Just one tiny thing. Then his project will be completed... I think."

Jack's eye glinted. "What. Project?"

Umber gulped. "Ah... You know... It's some... time metaspace device or something. It's honestly way beyond me, but it's probably childsplay for Doctor Valter because he's such a genius..."

Jack leaned his free hand on one of the tables. "What's it supposed to do?"

"Uh... Conceptualize the... inner machinations of... No, no, it's supposed to uh... parse the individual conceptualizations on a neutron scale... Wait, neutron or neuron scale?" Umber's eyes scrunched tight.

"On second thought, never mind..." Jack sighed, drawing his hand down the side of his face, stretching his lower eyelid in exasperation. "What's this thing I need to find then?"

"It's one of those uh... Rayon Null-Flux Distribution chips, I think. Doctor Valter had one, but he's misplaced it."

Jack retrieved an odd device from his coat pocket. It appeared similar to a pilot joystick without the base, but at the head it had a flat screen where a series of letters and numbers were read out to him. He started entering the name of the object.

Umber leaned closer to have a look. Jack put his hand on her face and pushed her away. She squawked in protest for a moment before composing herself.

"That's hardly nice, you know." she frowned.

"I am not nice." Jack answered, pressing the final button on the device. "I'd still like to actually meet this Doctor Valter. All I've heard about him so far are his many accomplishments and… you know. The usual."

"He's a very impressive man." Umber nodded enthusiastically. "But he's a little... unorthodox."

"Oh gee, who could have seen that coming? The genius scientist has some crazy quirks about him. It's like that's a requirement for being smart: You HAVE to have some kind of weirdness about you."

Umber shrugged. "I think everyone has a certain amount of weirdness to them. People just notice it more in geniuses because they want to emulate them."

Jack squinted at Umber for a moment. "Eh." he shrugged. He turned around and walked out of the tavern.

Umber left the tavern as soon as she'd grabbed her briefcase, and waddled as fast as she could to catch up to Jack. "So you'll do it then?" she panted, following Jack's long strides as best she could.

"Yeah, fine." Jack nodded. "In exchange, you can tell Doctor Valter that he can pay me double."

Umber laughed nervously. "Y-Yeah! I'll uh... I mean, I hope he has that much..."

"So give me a description of the object then." he said, cracking his knuckles.

"Uh... It's a... it's like a rectangle. Small, flat, grey, uh... Like maybe the size of your finger. B-but probably not as long. And it's got little nodes coming out of the sides."

"So like a square centipede?" Jack asked, kicking over a few rocks.

Umber blinked for a moment. "I suppose you could describe it like that... Say, where are we going?"

Jack pointed ahead, down the alley behind a long series of residential buildings. "I've got a feeling we'll find it if we keep heading this way."

"Well, uh, that's kind of convenient. The laboratory is just up ahead anyways."

Jack wandered down the street and Umber tried to keep pace with him.

"Are you, uh, getting closer to finding it?" Umber asked after a few long minutes. Jack shrugged, admiring the cracked corners of one of the houses.

"J-Jack?" she asked. He put his hands in his pocket.

"Tell me, where's that laboratory you were talking about earlier?"

"Hm? Well, it's back there now." she pointed in the direction they'd came from. "But only about a minute or so away."

Jack nodded, thoroughly considering the implications of what Umber had just said, before turning around and walking in that direction.

Umber squinted. "Wait, where are you going?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Jack outstretched his arms without turning around. "I'm going to the laboratory. I want to have a word with this Doctor Valter."

The hair rose up on the back of Umber's neck. "Uh! He, uh, doesn't like to be disturbed, Mister... Uh..." Umber couldn't remember his last name for the life of her.

"Just call me Jack." he said, tucking his hands once more into his pocket. He gazed at the skyline and tried to figure out which building was the laboratory.

"Jack, he doesn't like strangers coming into his lab. Whenever a stranger visits him there, something always goes wrong. Why do you need to see him anyway?"

Jack shrugged innocently. "I just want to talk to him. If I do that, I'll have a better clue of what to look for."

Umber knitted her fingers uncomfortably. "I don't know..."

"Just introduce me to him, we'll be fine." Jack said, raising his eyebrow at her. "I'm sure if it's coming from his trusted lab assistant, he wouldn't mind too much."

Umber looked away. "Well... If you insist. It's one of the smaller buildings around here. He has his own private lab where he spends most of his time, in addition to working out of the professional one."

"Busy man." Jack nodded. "Have to wonder when he sleeps."

Umber shrugged. "Every week or so."

She counted up on the numbers of the buildings down the street, until she stopped at one that looked like an abandoned motel. "This one. Number 2454."

"What, this place? This is his lab?" Jack covered his mouth with his fist. "It's not very impressive."

"Well, this is the entrance at least. Come on." Umber gestured him towards the entrance. There was a payphone mounted besides the locked door. She placed her briefcase down and clicked the latches, opening it up.

Jack crossed his arms and observed as she took a plastic card out of the briefcase and fed it into the slot on the payphone. She picked up the phone and listened for something, punching a long series of numbers into the dial pad, until the door clicked loudly.

"That seems elaborate." Jack noted as Umber pulled open the door.

"Doctor Valter is very insistent on keeping people out. The only other person besides me he lets into his personal laboratory is Doctor Madaras."

Jack took the door from Umber and stepped into the building. "And who would that be?"

"I haven't met him myself, but Doctor Valter tells me he's an old friend from their university."

It was very apparent the interior of the building was not regularly maintained. Stains upon the walls trickled from the ceiling, while dust and cobwebs covered every corner, every window and nearly every inch of space within the decrepit establishment.

"Some lab." Jack snickered, following Umber through a few rooms. Umber shot him a strange look. "This isn't his lab. I told you, it's just the entrance. We have to go down. Here's the elevator." Umber pointed to the nearby wall.

"So the elevator's just here then?" Jack asked, crossing his arms. "What's to stop someone from just breaking in and taking the elevator down to Valter's precious lab?"

"Proximity system." Umber noted, pressing the "Call Elevator" button. "If you try to break in, you're going to have a bad time."

"Oh? And how bad of a time are we talking here?"

"About two to four weeks in the hospital, minimum."

Jack grimaced. "He really does not like people in his lab, huh?"

"That is correct."

Jack spent a few moments staring around the room for any signs of security devices that descend from the ceiling and ruin his day.

"Suddenly, I feel a lot more uneasy about being a surprise guest."

"I'm sure he won't mind... too much... I mean, if he does, it's on your head, but just tell him you're here to help find the Rayon chip."

"Alright." Jack exhaled as the elevator arrived with an upbeat ding.

"Just make sure you say it quickly." Umber pressed the "SL" button on the elevator, and the doors closed shut.

Jack nodded slowly as the elevator began to descend.

"So how do you fit into this picture then?"

"Huh? Me?" Umber was caught off-guard by the question. Jack nodded and encouraged her to continue.

"W-Well... I'm an assistant to Doctor Valter. You know, he put out an ad looking for a new underling, and I'd just graduated from university, so I thought it would be a good opportunity to get myself out there as a scientist."

"Hmm." Jack nodded. "Sounds fun. You look rather young though. What'd you attend university for?"

"I, uh... I went for a double-major in Biology and Technical Engineering. That was uh... Four years for my bachelor's degree and another two years for my master's."

"Ambitious..." Jack mumbled with an almost envious whisper. He hadn't done anything in the six years following high school but work as a freelance agent, finding things people had misplaced. It didn't pay very well, but it wasn't something many other people could do, so he always had a steady flow of clients to work for.

Jack only just noticed that Umber was missing a tooth. Her lower left central incisor.

"How'd you lose the tooth?" he asked. Umber immediately bristled and closed her mouth. She looked over her shoulder at Jack and covered her mouth to speak. "Oh, you know... It just happened." she tittered with a nervous rattle in her voice. She sounded deeply uncomfortable and unhinged, so Jack didn't press the subject.

The elevator doors dinged and Umber let out a quiet, but not quiet enough, "Oh thank God" and quickly left the elevator without a word to Jack. He followed behind her and the two of them sauntered into what was unmistakably the actual laboratory.

It was a large black room. Massive, even. At least forty feet to the ceiling and fifty feet from wall to wall. A massive twenty-foot wide monitor was hung from the wall, with what looked like hundreds of wires and cables connected to the left, right and bottom of it. There were at least five different computer desks positioned randomly throughout the room. Each computer desk had wheels supporting the legs and a computer monitor and tower upon the table itself. Various assorted trinkets adorned each desk, and a wide powerbar served as the source of power for each individual station. In the center of the room, there was a netted cage with what looked like an oversized glowstick inside. It was held in place with several brass affixations which all had wires pouring out of them, and in front of the cage was a control panel with a downright unnecessary amount of knobs, buttons, dials and graphs.

Adorning the walls of the room were tables laid end-to-end, each containing countless trays and petri dishes or pieces of hardware and technological abominations. There also appeared to be a room off to the left, from which only a pure white light permeated, as if it were the doorway the protagonist walked through dramatically in the series finale of a TV show.

"What the heck is this place?" Jack was too awestruck to resist asking the obvious question.

"This is Doctor Valter's personal lab. He does most of his work here, and then whatever's necessary for work he just carries over to the professional laboratory. But he's uh... He doesn't seem to be here right now."

Jack put his jazz hands up. "Did something suspenseful happen to him? Are we about to embark on an adventure to find the whereabouts of our missing Doctor?"

"No, he's probably just in the side room." Umber pointed to the door of white light. "Just wait here for a second... AND DON'T TOUCH ANYTHING!"

Umber quickly scurried out of the main room. Yes, leave the visitor unsupervised in the room he's not supposed to be in, Jack thought. He walked over to one of the computers and checked out the trinkets on the desk. This one had tiny plastic dinosaurs all along the desk and three on top of the computer tower. They felt rigid and weren't glued down.

Jack looked up, and realized he'd missed an important part of the lab. It couldn't be seen from the entrance because the caged glowstick was obscuring it, but between the huge TV and the glowstick was a pedestal with a shiny snowball on it. Or it might have just been a crystal soccer ball. Or something equally preposterous.

He walked towards it and made sure he had a good look at it. There was a four foot bronze pedestal coming from the ground that tapered in the middle. Four protrusions from the pedestal held the sparkling white sphere like it was a diviner. Jack was entranced. It didn't seem to be moving, but it still had a wavy feeling to it. Perhaps it was the way light reflected or refracted through it; Jack couldn't remember which one was the correct word.

The more he stared at it, the more Jack realized that the light actually was moving within it. Very subtly, but it was definitely doing that on its own. And soon, he was able to see visions inside of it. They looked like they could've been someone's memories. Or a movie. Perhaps even what someone was seeing right now. He didn't know, but the story he was watching captivated him. His desire to know more grew, and he couldn't resist the allure of a mystery without explanation.

Someone loudly cleared their throat. Jack quickly turned around, and saw Umber standing in the doorway with a tall man. Probably taller than himself; Umber only came up to his chin, but on this man, Umber only came up to his shoulder. He had jet black hair, and looked like he'd been recently struck by a bolt of lightning, sans soot or char. The front frock of his hair stood all upright, and he had a cutting graveness to his eyes. His skin was pale, his face was clean shaven, and his lab coat was immaculate. He didn't have an unpleasant or perturbed expression, his face showed no ill emotion at all, but his dark blue eyes still sent a chill up Jack's spine. They had an exuberant audacity about them, and effortlessly projected authority, intimidation and power.

"Doctor Valter, th-this is Jack. He's the agent y-you wanted to see earlier today. About the chip."

"Ah yes." the man's voice sounded like winter air. "Jack the Finder. My assistant here says you wanted to speak with me."

"I just wanted to meet the man in person, really." Jack shrugged, touring his eyes around the lab. "Nice set-up you have here. Must be a real lap of luxury for whatever you spend your time doing down here."

"Mm." Valter grinned politely. "So what can I do for you then, Jack the Finder?"

Jack clicked his tongue. "I assume Umber has told you about our revised arrangements?"

Valter's eyebrows raised, and his eyes glazed over into an unimpressed sheen. He slowly stared down at Umber, who rubbed her hands nervously.

"Aheheh... He uh... Jack is a little, um, upset that, you know, you didn't meet him in person... and y'know, being an hour late and all, so uh... He... He wants double pay."

Valter's lips curled disapprovingly. "Well, that all depends on whether or not our Jack the Finder is any good at his profession."

"Hm? Would you care to repeat that?" Jack teased.

"You'll have your double pay, but the Rayon chip must be found today. I suggest you depart immediately; you're burning daylight."

Jack chuckled, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the Rayon chip. "There you go again, underestimating me."

Valter was initially insulted that Jack had the chip the entire time, and was just playing up the dramatics leading up to this moment, until he remembered he'd only sent Umber to meet with him about a half hour ago.

"Well well, Jack the Finder. It seems you really are worth your paycheck."

Jack leaned his other hand on the closest nearby object and chuckled immodestly. "Well, when you've been doing it for as... long as I... have..."

He frowned, wondering why Valter and Umber had such agape and mortified expressions. He looked around the room, confused at the sudden cause for alarm, until he noticed his hand was resting upon the crystal ball thing he'd been admiring. He remembered that Valter didn't want him touching anything. Well, it wasn't that big of a deal. He'd just apologize and say he'd forgotten the no touching rule.

The weight of his leaning force shattered the crystal ball.

Oh no.

Valter had enough time to scream "You idiot!" before the room was violated by a sudden, all-encompassing white light.

Jack regained consciousness an unknown amount of time later. He had been flung against the far wall of the room, and his left forearm was clearly broken, midway between his wrist and elbow. The computer desks had been thrown away from the center of the room as well, scattering all the tiny plastic dinosaurs and any other knick knacks perched upon the desks. The petri dishes were clumped a messy pile, and most tables had been upended.

There were also a lot more people in the laboratory now than there used to be.

A strange pair of hands gripped Jack's shirt by the lapels and slammed him against the wall. Valter was staring into his eyes with a seething rage.

"Hey, hey, take it easy... My arm is broken." was all Jack could get out in his still-groggy state.

"I am about to break your EVERYTHING." Valter hissed. "Do you realize what you've done?"

Jack blinked. "Is it the apocalypse? Did I accidentally the entire planet?"

"...No." The word gnashed at Jack's ears like it had claws.

"Oh, good. Only downhill from there."

"That rhombitruncated icosidodecahedron you were leaning against was my latest project! You complete imbecile! You've shattered the IdeaSpace!"

"What's a... Rombulacoid Insidious-hedron? Wait, what's an IdeaSpace?"

"Now is not the time to expand upon either of those concepts. This is the part where I murder you with my bare hands. The police will find your remains inside wild dogs from Parnham to Aberdovy."

"D-Doctor!" Umber stammered, jogging towards the two of them. "Let's uh... Let's not resort to murder... just yet."

Oh sweet, Umber has my back, Jack thought with a smile. She sent a cold stare into his soul that quickly vanquished his optimism.

"Umber! You understand what he's done right?! You understand what he's done to my project!" Valter shouted, bashing Jack against the wall with each emphatic syllable. "This is why I don't like strangers coming into my personal lab! This was your idea, Umber! You-"

He let out a loud, audible gasp. "Oh my god. The ideas!"

Valter let go of Jack and turned around, clutching his head in dismay. Jack's senses slowly returned to him, and laying eyes upon the extra people now within the room, he realized what Valter was really talking about: The people were dressed in very disguishable attire.

The mask of Boba Fett. The suit and tie of the Tenth Doctor. The pipe and trenchcoat of Sherlock Holmes. The cassette player of Starlord. And it wasn't just accessories of icons from the golden age or the silver screen, others yet adorned themselves with semblances of historical figures: The signature cravat of Edgar Allan Poe. The bushy moustache of Nietzsche. The white wig of George Washington.

A deep, worrisome gut feeling gripped Jack. He realized these people were not in costume.


	2. Pandemonium

Note: Nietzsche is pronounced Nee-CHUH.

There was so much chaos. People were yelling and pointing, others looked around confused and bewilder, yet others grew impatient and violent.

Valter pulled a switch on the wall, and a loud, flashing klaxon ceased all commotion. The alarm only lasted for a few long seconds before it ended. With a loud CLUNK, he reset the lever, drawing everyone's attention to him.

"Sorry, everyone." he said with a terse smile, raising his hands. "It seems we've experienced an anomaly. Just keep calm, and I'll have everything sorted out."

Boba Fett leveled his gun at Valter's face. "Well then you better get snapping."

Valter pushed the barrel of the blaster away from his face with his finger. "I'm the only one who knows how to work the portal here, space soldier. If you shoot me, you are never getting home."

The charming man in a suit was taking photographs of the inside of the laboratory. Or doing something with weird looking pen device.

"Sir, no photography in the lab!" Valter waved to get his attention, nearly tripping over Edgar Allan Poe, who was on the floor in the fetal position.

"Oh for the love of..." Before Valter could complete the expletive, a smartly dressed man with a pipe and detectives hat was shaking his hand.

"How do you do, good sir? My name is Sherlock Holmes. Might I ask you a few questions?"

"Yes, yes! We can all... get to that in a minute! Uh..." Valter's gaze snapped towards his assistant, Umber.

He called her name across the laboratory, and she dutifully trotted up to him.

"Yes, sir?"

"Could you please, uh... Take care of the ideas for a moment. I need to have a private talk with a most troublesome guest."

Umber swallowed nervously, glancing around the lab at the variety of strange and imposing figures. Before she could voice any kind of protest, Valter had disappeared into the side room, locking the door behind him.

The side room was a green-lit operations area, much smaller than the main lab, but with a much higher concentrations of scientific equipment. Leaning against one of the specimen freezers was Jack. Umber had quickly managed to bind his broken arm in some spare gauze that had been lying around the room. It was fashioned into an effective yet uncomfortable sling that chafed his shoulder.

Valter's words were ice cold, but were delivered with a slow and deliberate venom. "You've done it now, Jack."

"Oh have I?" he asked, folding his good arm across his chest. He pretended to lean against the specimen freezer, like he wasn't being forcibly bound to it. Umber had stuffed part of his shirt within the freezer and then locked it shut, to keep him from rummaging around the room's equipment.

Valter stalked towards him, with an expression that transcended fury, until the two were forehead-to-forehead.

"I am not one for idle threats, Jack, so I will make this as bereft as dramatics as I can manage. What you have just done, if left unchecked, will destroy the entire world. You and you alone will be responsible for the deaths of millions. Those who are left alive will curse your name with the same vile hatred held for the genocidal maniacs of history. If you do not rectify your mistake, I will personally ensure that you suffer a worse fate than the cumulative sum of all your victims."

Jack gulped. "You're uh... Kinda creeping me out here, Doc."

Valter gripped his lapels once more and hoisted him off of his feet. "You still don't know what you've done, do you?! You've shattered the IdeaSpace! You've unleashed..."

Valter's last few words left his mouth like a deflating balloon. His gaze softened for a moment and he returned Jack to the ground. "You don't know what the IdeaSpace is, do you?"

Jack shook his head emphatically. Valter let out a deep, exasperated sigh. When he spoke, his voice carried a more pensive tone.

"The IdeaSpace is a project I've been working on... my whole life. When I was eight, my parents noticed I was... different. They had me tested, and the people working at the institute said that I was smart enough to qualify for genius status. That's usually a good thing, but..."

Valter's scrunched his face and held his hands together. "Uh, anyways... The idea of what a genius was had always seemed absurd to me. How we, as people, define what a genius is. It's someone who's smart, sure, but everyone is smart in their own ways... Here, maybe this will help."

Valter ran to the other side of the room and threw open the doors to an older looking specimen freezer. Unlike the others, it was made of wood, not metal, and seemed to contain old trinkets and board games.

"Here. Take this for example." he said, quickly returning with a 500 piece puzzle of a flamingo. "Imagine this is your average person. Imagine that each of these pieces is the way the human brain can be organized. And everyone has a different brain, a different way of looking at things... But only one solution is considered "correct". Well... I didn't much like that. Within every person lies a genius, the pieces are just... not arranged properly!"

Jack nodded for him to continue, feigning comprehension.

"So what if... What if there was a way to organize people's brains? We wouldn't just have three or four geniuses in the world... We could have millions. All I had to do was take each person's brain and arrange it like this jigsaw puzzle! Of course, not every person should or even could have the same solution. If everyone was a flamingo, all we would have is one kind of genius a million times over. So... that got me thinking, maybe the approach was wrong. Maybe instead we just needed to organize everyone's ideas like puzzle pieces. With some kind of supercomputer millions of times more advanced than the human brain, we could host something like a server with every single idea humanity has ever come up with, bouncing off one another. We'd solve every single human crisis within a matter of decades! Food shortages, sustainability, the radioactive surface! We'd... We'd..."

Valter stared into his hands and grew silent. His vision shook and his face lost its enthusiasm.

"That sounds like a great project, Doc." Jack smiled.

"It was. But before I could complete it, something terrible happened..."

"What?"

Valter lifted Jack in the air once more. "YOU BROKE IT!"

Jack twisted himself awkwardly in the scientists grasp. "I didn't break anything except that stupid crystal ball of yours!"

"That. Was. The project. I couldn't physically create a computer as demanding as the technology needed, so I just used some quick and dirty quantum physics to tunnel through the universe, harnessing the power of space to fuel the machine's processing power. When you shattered the stabilizer, the tunnel prolapsed upon itself, causing a wormhole to form in MY PRIVATE LAB!"

"Well... Is the wormhole going to kill the people then?"

"A wormhole is neither good nor evil, Jack. It is a doorway. Here, let me try to explain this more on your level of intelligence. Let's start with some questions: What was the point of the project I was developing?"

Jack shook his head to jog his short term memory. He really had not been expecting a pop quiz. "Um... To uh, bridge... people's minds? Like all ideas in one place?"

"Very good." Valter said slowly, nodding. Jack was beginning to feel insulted, but Valter pressed on. "And what did breaking the... "crystal ball" do exactly?"

"Created a wormhole?"

Valter nodded once more. "Now, let's think very carefully about this one. What happens when you open the doorway between every possible idea humanity has ever thought of, and the real world?"

The lightbulb came on in his head. Jack blinked.

"Oh my god."

"Yeah? You see it now?!" Valter shouted, shaking Jack's shoulders. "You've unleashed all of fiction upon the world! Every villain! Every supernatural force! Every monster, entity, disease... Every single malicious creation that has ever been thought of is now real, and it's going to kill everyone if we don't stop it."

"But wait... You just told me it wasn't the apocalypse! Like, just a few minutes ago."

Valter's face twisted in annoyance. "It's… not an imminent apocalypse, mind you. It appears, at a first glance, that only a small percentage of fiction has made it into the real world so far. But let me ask you, Jack: If the only thing separating you from a hungry tiger was an open door, would you consider yourself safe?"

"Oh, I think I get it now." Jack slowly nodded. "We've opened the door to hell basically, but that's not... like, immediately bad, since only a few people have come through so far. But we don't want anything ELSE coming through that door... So why not just close it?"

"The answer is not that simple."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Oh, of course it's not that simple! Who could have possibly seen that answer coming?"

Valter's breathing became heavier. "Every idea that takes up space in this world has IdeaSpace energy within it. The portal cannot close until all the energy is on one side. Just the same, if anyone from the real world goes into the IdeaSpace, we wouldn't be able to close the portal until they were brought back here."

"Alright... But I mean, come on Valter. If the only ideas that had escaped the IdeaSpace were all just in your main lab room, wouldn't it be easy enough to shoo them all back into the portal and then close it?"

Valter was starting to panic a little, not through any fault of Jack this time, but merely thinking and talking aloud about it was making him increasingly more anxious.

"In theory, that would work, but it's a little more complicated than that. The IdeaSpace is structured like a metaverse; a plane of existence containing multiple multiverses. Each idea has a multiverse that it needs to stay aligned to, much like how magnetic domains work. We can't have different ideas in different alignments, different people in areas they don't belong... It could destabilize the IdeaSpace! And if our world is still connected to theirs with the portal open, we'll be sucked into their gravity well."

Jack nodded considerably for a few moments while Valter caught his breath. "I understood some of those words."

Valter looked upwards at the ceiling and genuinely considered praying for strength. "If an idea doesn't go back to its proper home, the IdeaSpace collapses. If the IdeaSpace collapses, the open portal in the very next room from us will turn into a black hole with the gravitational force of a trillion collapsing universes. Real world: GONE. There does not exist a measurement of time small enough to describe how quickly we would be destroyed in that scenario."

Jack took a deep breath. "I mean... You do realize this is probably more your fault than mine right? All I did was break a crystal ball thingy. I didn't create trillions of universes or whatever that could destroy everyone with a black hole if a tiny glass ball breaks."

Valter's eyebrows raised. "No, Jack, this IS your fault. Do you know why?"

"Why?"

The doctor pounded his fist on the metal specimen freezer. "BECAUSE I DON'T BREAK THINGS LIKE AN IDIOT! Do you know WHY I only let two other people into my PERSONAL laboratory? Because people like YOU are STUPID! You BREAK things! Every time! Every single god-damn time! I would say Umber was better than that, because she at least knows how to be CAREFUL, but she let you in here! You! The idiot who breaks things! Hey Jack, you're so good at finding things right? Why don't you find a way to go back in time and unbreak my god-damn stabilizer, and then find your way straight into Hell!"

Valter turned away from Jack, panting heavily. He paced in front of the man for a few moments, cross-armed, taking calming breaths, until his pacing grew less intense and hurried. He uncomfortably adjusted his tie.

"Jack, I uh... I want to apologise for exploding on you like that. I don't feel it was warranted. You deserve to be scolded for your idiocy but what I just did was rather personal."

Jack nodded, slowly and contemptuously. "You can say it's my fault all you want, but what you're doing is just not safe."

Valter's eyes flashed, and Jack wondered when his mouth would stop getting him into trouble.

"It doesn't matter if it's not safe! It works, because I'm careful, Jack! I work how it's most efficient for me, how it's most comfortable, so I can get the best results, and do the best work for the world! I shouldn't have to distract myself by baby-proofing every invention in MY OWN personal lab, where you can count the number of invitees on half of a hand!" Valter put his hands on his knees and squatted down to Jack's eye-level. "I wear gloves when I handle plutonium, Jack! But I bet you're the type of person to grab it bare-fisted then blame the plutonium for being too dangerous when you get cancer and die!"

"Doesn't matter how much of your life you've spent walking on eggshells, Doc. You only need to make a mistake once."

Umber knocked on the door, and Valter paused for a moment, before realizing the door was locked. He scurried over to open it.

"The uh, the ideas are getting a little restless, Doctor Valter. I'm not sure if they're just content with what I have to say. They keep asking to speak to the person in charge."

Valter swallowed with dread and bit his lip. "Right then. I will handle them for now. You can watch Jack. I've explained to him partly what the IdeaSpace is, so I'll need you to go over his... options for the future."

Umber nodded, and the two exchanged places. She closed the door behind herself while Valter tended to the ideas. She was still carrying her briefcase with her.

"So, uh... You screwed up. Pretty badly I should say." Umber didn't make eye contact with him.

"So I've been told." Jack sighed, trying to adjust himself into a more comfortable position against the specimen freezer. Despite being called a freezer, it wasn't cold to lean against.

Umber stepped closer to him. "It is absolute chaos out there. So many different ideas... people I should say, and they're all mushing together in a way that none of them have ever experienced before. Things are even getting a little testy between some of them, but, uh, enough about that."

She pulled up a stool and sat in front of Jack, resting her briefcase between her legs.

"What's in that briefcase?" Jack asked.

"Oh, this? Well, uh... You know, just stuff. My cards to get into Doctor Valter's personal lab, uh... some devices..."

"If you're just carrying cards around, couldn't you just fit them in your pocket?"

"W-Well, it's not something I like to be without." she said, fidgeting in her seat. "It just gives me security, you know? Always being prepared for whatever happens."

Jack shrugged. "I can understand that. What, did you put that chip you needed in there or something?"

"Uh..." Umber looked up, and laughed sheepishly. "See, with the IdeaSpace as it is now... Doctor Valter, uh... REALLY doesn't have much of a use for that chip anymore."

"So that chip was for the IdeaSpace project?"

Umber nodded. "He was hopping to create a more efficient tunneling system with the help of a few external components, one of which required the Rayon chip." Umber grit her teeth and grimaced. "And I'm prreeeetttyyy sure that the machine it was going to be installed in was destroyed in the chaos of, um... the incident. That's probably the least of Valter's worries right now, though."

Jack rubbed the side of his head. "Right, right. All the fictional people who, uh... Wait... If the IdeaSpace is just full of fictional people and ideas, why are there real people out there?"

"Oh, you mean like Nikolai Tesla, Stanley Kubrick, Abraham Lincoln..."

Jack blinked slowly. "I didn't see any of those people. But, yes, that's rather what I meant."

Umber tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Well, you are correct: The IdeaSpace only contains fiction; every thought to ever have been thought by another person, whether they're alive, dead, or... Well, you know, I'm sure Doctor Valter explained it to you. But sometimes people come up with ideas that involve real historical characters. So they're still fictional incarnations, but they're also still historical figures. I mean, if someone created a version of, I don't know, George Washington who happened to like pickles, then there would exist a George Washington in the IdeaSpace who likes pickles! Even if he hated them in real life, I don't know." she frowned for a moment. "Were pickles even invented when he was alive?"

"Er, so you're telling me more than one of the same person could exist in the IdeaSpace?"

Umber nodded. "Every original idea. Geez, that reminds me, have you ever read a story called One Man World? It's about a guy named Dave, and he lives in Holocene Earth, except that everyone on the planet is a clone of him... like, all twelve billion people. So there's at least twelve billion copies of Dave in the IdeaSpace... You know, barring any alternate universe ideas or headcanons about the story..." Umber looked up and rubbed her hands. "I might actually have a few, so, uh... we can probably double that number... or triple it..."

"That is a lot of Daves... How long has Valter been working on this?"

"He says it's been about 40 years, but I think it's more like 30. He keeps imagining he's spent his entire life working on the IdeaSpace, but he didn't really start until after a bit of a family crisis he had when he was eight."

Jack frowned. "He's had time to work on this while doing everything else he's famous for? I guess you weren't kidding when you said he doesn't sleep."

"I never said that... I told you he slept every week or so. But Doctor Valter never stops inventing, creating, devising, reforming, innovating... he's just such a smart guy. I love working for him!"

Jack looked off to the side. "That much is apparent." Umber, however, had already wound herself up.

"Like, there's this one project he's working on right now... It doesn't have an official name just yet, but it's something Italian because the main beneficiary has Italian heritage. Something something scienforza. I can't remember it all, BUT, it's really cool because what he's been doing with it so far! Just testing with geckos, it makes them really strong. I mean..." She pursed her lips and twiddled her thumbs for a minute. "It does make them feral and extremely violent, but he'll work out the kinks eventually. You know, it's still in testing and all that."

Her face suddenly turned red, and she crossed her arms. "Then again, I'm not sure if I should be telling you this... seeing as what you did with the Doctor's last project."

"Yes, I get it, I broke the thing and now that "genius" doctor of yours thinks everyone is going to die. Can we stop beating the dead horse already?"

Umber didn't respond, but she wore a cross expression on her face. Jack looked away when he found himself feeling guilty.

A few minutes of silence and deep thought had passed between the two of them, before Jack spoke up once more.

"So what's going to happen now? You're going to put all the ideas back into the, uh, IdeaSpace right?"

Umber nodded slowly, not speaking and not uncrossing her arms.

"That'd take a little while. I just hope everything turns out alright. We've been through enough in this world."

Umber's stare reflected a difficult past. "That's how it always goes. I'm sure we can... find a way to recover from this. Hopefully without too much damage."

Jack lowered his gaze and nodded slowly. "How old did you say you were, Umber?"

Umber gulped, and looked around nervously. "I, uh, didn't."

"My bad. How old are you then? I mean, I said on the elevator down you looked young, but... You have two master degrees right? From the university, of all places. Most people even as old as the doctor don't get that much done in their life."

Umber fidgeted for a few more seconds. "Well, I'm, uh... I'm 24."

Jack squinted. "Same age as me..." he muttered.

"Oh, is that right? You uh..." Umber caught the rest of her sentence in her mouth, and tried to think of a way to rephrase it. "I can tell you've done a lot of hard work."

Jack placed his hand on his chin. "Well, I suppose we're both guilty of that. I didn't go to the university, or any of the smaller schools around here. I just started working on my own after high school. Though I've never been called Jack the Finder before. Is that something Valter came up with on the spot?"

"I barely even notice it anymore." she said. "His mind works in a really interesting but hard-to-follow manner. It's water off a duck's back for me, most of the time."

"24 then..." Jack continued to run the number through his head. "You must've gone right into the university after high school. They accepted you as a fresh graduate?"

Umber nodded, and her eyes widened. "I didn't think they would let me in... There's a lot of scary competition there. Some of those applicants are already famous in their fields. The fact that a nobody like me got in, well... I was happy. A lot of others were not."

"Scary indeed... Especially that Valter. I mean, I deal with a lot of creeps and thugs who try to act tough and intimidate people, but... There's something just downright chilling about that man."

Umber twirled her hair around her finger. "Oh, Doctor Valter isn't so bad, once you... get used to him."

Jack's eyebrow flashed up. "What about him then? Surely you must know a little about his past. I mean, besides the things he's famous for."

"W-Well..." Umber tucked her head down and grasped her hands. "He doesn't much talk about his personal life. All I really care to admit is he was one of the top students of the university. He set a record actually... He received his doctorate with a QAN of 49."

Jack's eyes rolled back into his head. "Oh, come off it. That's just a downright lie and you know it."

Umber frowned. "Why would I lie about that?"

"No, not you. Valter's lying about it. People don't get Quality Assurance Numbers that high. I mean, for crying out loud, that one scientist from Aurora finished with a QAN 35 and he made headlines."

"Doctor Valter didn't want his QAN published. He said it was, uh... a "worthless measurement" of someone's abilities. You know, like IQ tests before they were abolished."

"How horrifying." Jack looked to his right. He doubted he'd even be accepted to the University, let alone qualify for a QAN. At best he'd just flat out fail everything or get maybe a QAN 1.

"I mean, it's different for people doing bachelor, master and doctorates..." Umber tapped her fingers together nervously.

Jack's eyes slowly drifted over to her. "Say, that reminds me... What was your QAN?"

"Me?! Uh, well..."

Valter swung open the door and pointed towards Umber. "Alright, I'm going to need your help for this."

His gaze passed through Jack, and his body shuddered. "Yes, you too Jack."

"What... What's going on?" Jack's brow wrinkled in confusion while Umber unlocked the freezer and freed his shirt.

"I've gotten them complacent for now, but I have to start cataloguing them so we can send them back to their respective alignments."

Jack gave an expectant stare to Umber. "What is he saying?"

"He needs help sorting everyone." she said, taking Jack's hand and walking him out of the room. She had a surprisingly firm grip.

In the main room, the ideas were in a less chaotic mood than Jack had last saw them. Most of them were conversing in groups of two or three, while a few outliers kept to themselves and away from everyone else. There was at least forty of them present.

"Here, take these... Pardon the exposed wiring and everything." Valter said, shoving what looked like a gun into Jack and Umber's hands. "I've had to cannibalize a few of my machines to make these. Scan people, give them the slip that comes out." He pointed to the two of them and lowered his head. "DON'T let them lose it."

Jack didn't bother asking how it worked. Umber made a mental note to ask him later. The two of them set to work, approaching each idea and scanning them for whatever reason it served. The printouts were a strange series of numbers and letters that didn't make sense to Jack, but he did so as dutifully as he could with his one good hand.

Jack scanned two more ideas and handed them their printouts. He didn't clue into who they were until they had taken the slips from him. "Hey, you! You're Nietzsche, aren't you?"

The man with the thick moustache nodded. Across from him stood Edgar Allan Poe.

Jack looked over his shoulder. Umber was busy talking to Valter, so neither of them were in any danger of interrupting him. He holstered the scanning device into his pocket. "Hey, nice seeing the two of you together. I'm sort of a fan of both your works."

"Well, it's good to meet yet another intellectual here." Nietzsche bowed his head, gesturing to Poe. "I've been having a rather refreshing talk with this gentleman here."

Poe nodded. His voice was less surly and more breathy. "I appreciate the banter we've exchanged. Someone with whom I can truly delve into the deepest aspects of life, death and mysticisms above and beyond what we know, and receive competent countenance and a complete, capital conversation."

"You know, I never thought about it before, but I suppose you two would get along, wouldn't you?" Jack laughed.

Nietzsche conceded this point. "Well, I would say the greatest difference in perspective lies in our measured enthusiasm. Whereas I am very adamant that one must take charge of their own life, my friend Edgar here has a more apathetic approach."

Poe extended his arms unapologetically. "I do not feel the need to become this, er, Ubermensch. I am content with living an easy and happy life. We all eventually return to the endless ethereal void of the midnight, so let us not sweat the between details."

Jack had to catch himself before he got involved. These were still ideas: Fictional characters. They weren't the actual historical figures they resembled, they were merely embodiments of someone's imagination.

"S-So tell me about yourselves." Jack asked in a stilted voice.

Poe began first. "Well, I live in the small town of Breckenridge, Colorado with 15 year old Emily Brown. She own her own Hot Topic store, and goes to concerts every night featuring MCR and Gerrard Way. The whole town is invited to them, except for that stupid poser Becky Turliton. Nobody likes her."

Jack forced a grisly smile. This Edgar Allan Poe had apparently been pulled from some teenage girl's awful self-insert fanfiction.

"And what about you, Nietzsche?"

Nietzsche took a deep breath. "I was a professor at Basel for a period of time, until my health began to decline about two years ago. I was forced to retire, and I now tour Europe and work as an independent philosopher and author."

"Hmm... Interesting." Jack nodded, noting how normal that was. Perhaps he was from a fictional story set in the real world.

"Though, I do say... That gentleman in the suit and tie looks quite familiar." Nietzsche pointed across the room. Jack spotted the man in question instantly as the Tenth Doctor.

"Oh, he's from an episode of Doctor Who..." Jack muttered to himself.

"Pardon?"

Jack turned around quickly. "Nothing. I, uh... Be sure to hang onto those pieces of paper, alright you two?"

Nietzsche and Poe nodded, and Jack slipped away from the duo. He looked around to see who else he needed to scan, and saw Valter waving for him.

"Yeah, doc?" Jack asked as he lumbered over to the computer set-up Valter had stationed himself behind.

"Have you scanned everyone in the room?" he asked, without looking up from one of the monitors.

Jack looked out towards the crowd of ideas. "Uh... I think so?"

"Umber's counted 41 ideas within this room, and we now have 41 scans on record. Just double checking with you." Valter was typing incredibly fast on the keyboard, at a rate almost too fast for Jack to keep up with.

"R-Right... So now what?"

"Now we begin the process of returning the ideas to their respective alignments! And, er... That one in the corner." the doctor pointed to Boba Fett. "Has, well not kindly mind you, but I believe it's in everyone's best interest that he is resituated first."

"Yeah, I've noticed he's one of the few people in here with a gun." Jack muttered.

"I was originally going to organize it alphabetically according to alignment, but I feel it makes more sense if we do it by nature of the ideas' tendency to cause trouble. Therefore, if we leave villains or troublemakers out longer than necessary, it will cause so much more undue chaos to befell Desultorus."

"That makes sense. So, if we're dealing with Boba Fett first, does that mean our first stop in the IdeaSpace is Star Wars?"

Valter nodded quickly, emphatically hammering the last few keys on the keyboard. "Correct! Alignment 1167X45BA."

Umber shot Valter a wary stare. Jack coughed. "No one is going to remember that." he said.

Valter's rolled his eyes and stared at Jack. "And what would you suggest?"

He shrugged. "Well, it's the first world we're visiting. Why not just call it World 1?"

"That is an incredibly stupid suggestion, Jack, but it's entirely like you to suggest something like that. We're calling it by the alignment name and that's final."

"Fine, whatever." Jack shrugged. "Who's all dealing with this then?"

"Ah... That's where you come in."

"What, you mean my work here isn't done? I thought I just had to scan these guys for you?"

"Well, Jack... You're rather good at finding things, correct? So you'd be able to find out where in their world these ideas fit in, right?"

Jack was silent for a moment. "You don't mean..."

"Tell me, Jack the Finder... How would you like to work for me on a more permanent basis?"

Jack crossed his arms and looked down. There was a pregnant pause in the conversation before Jack spoke up again. "You're asking me to go in there, aren't you?"

Valter nodded.

Jack begrudgingly considered this. "Well... There's no way I can do it alone. Especially not with my arm in a sling."

"I can't exactly send you with anyone..." The doctor began. "To be frank, it's crucial that this IdeaSpace project stays between the three of us. I'm not sure if I'm willing to risk my assistant going in there as well."

Umber rubbed her hands over each other. "Uh, actually, Doctor Valter... I wouldn't mind going in there. You know, just to see what it's like."

Valter turned towards her. "But what if something happens to you in there?"

Umber didn't have an answer for that. "He can't do it on his own. And if he fails, we'd just have to clean up after him ourselves, but we'll be down a person. It's just... it's an all-or-nothing situation."

Valter grimaced. He rested his hands on the computer desk and hung his head.

"You're right." he said after a long, pensive break. "Okay. You two shall escort Boba Fett to his alignment."

Umber bit her lip and nodded. She didn't look excited, or even happy, but she it was something she had to do.

"I'll do my best. I don't exactly plan on dying in there." Jack straightened his back and nodded to Valter.

Valter stared at him. He had that look in his eye again. "Jack... If Umber doesn't come back with you..."

Jack realized he'd fair better not returning at all than returning without Umber. And if he didn't return, there would be no one left to close the IdeaSpace.

The future of Desultorus and the entire world rested upon their safe returns.

Jack felt too paralyzed to respond to Valter, but he nodded to show he understood.

"I'm priming the tunnel then. When you enter the portal, it will take you Alignment 1167X45BA. Be safe, both of you."

Jack gulped. "Y-Yeah." Umber gave a tiny wave goodbye, and the two gestured to Boba Fett.

"We're heading out?" the bounty hunter asked. Jack and Umber exchanged stares, then nodded at him.

Boba Fett's head swivelled to stare at each of them for a quiet moment. "Just the two of you?"

The duo nodded once more. Boba Fett drew his blaster.

"No way. Him too." he pointed his gun at Valter. The doctor flinched and backed away from the computer, while Boba Fett stalked towards him.

"What are you doing? I have to stay here and operate the portal from this end! Not to mention, if I'm gone, who will keep an eye on the other ideas?!"

"Not my problem." Boba monotoned, pushing Valter away from the computer station and leading him towards the portal with his blaster.

"You're making a big mistake! Stop it! You can't-!"

His protests were cut short when Boba Fett shoved him through the portal. He jumped in after the doctor, leaving Umber and Jack in a state of petrified shock.

"D-Doctor!" Umber shouted, taking a step towards the portal. She would've run right into it if someone hadn't stopped her. A hand fell upon her shoulder, and she turned around to see who it was.

"Hello there." the Tenth Doctor said with a smile. "I couldn't help but notice... THAT." he pointed towards the portal.

"Uh... Y-Yeah..." Umber stared up at him, blinking.

"So tell me, I did overhear quite a lot so far. I'm no stranger to peculiar circumstances like these, but... Well, it seems you and your friend are in a little bit of trouble."

Umber groaned loudly and covered her face. "You don't know the half of it. With all this IdeaSpace stuff just happening so fast, it's stressing me out to no end. And now Doctor Valter's been shoved through the portal and we can't just get him back now to help us! It's... It's a nightmare!"

The Tenth Doctor raised his eyebrow. "Well, I have some experience with portals. Space stuff, you know, all of that. Perhaps I could be of assistance."

"Oh, if you could, you'd be a lifesaver!" Umber gasped, leading him by the hand over to the control station Valter had set up. Jack couldn't make out all she was saying, but she seemed to be explaining the IdeaSpace, how it worked, why he was here and what everyone else was doing here.

"Right then, that all seems straightforward enough." he nodded. "I'll do my best here. You go save the world."

Umber nodded so quickly Jack was worried the bun in her hair would come undone. "Do you have a name?"

"The Doctor." The Tenth Doctor nodded, smiling towards her.

"R-Right. Okay, Doctor... I'll uh, just go through the portal now. I have to- I mean- Doctor Valter is really important and we have to go get him back so you know- Bye!" she rambled frantically as she ran from the Tenth Doctor's side all the way to the portal. She jumped through, and with that, it was only Jack and the ideas.

Jack looked around. Valter and Umber were gone. The ideas were talking amongst themselves, the Tenth Doctor was busy observing the controls, and no one was paying him any attention. The elevator was right around the corner.

Maybe Valter had been lying about that end of the world business. Maybe he was just exaggerating to guilt Jack into helping him out. He could leave this room of fictional characters come to life and go back to what he knew was normal. Back to working as a freelancer, living just above the poverty line, alone in a dusty apartment, but master of his own destiny. He did hate being told what to do, and Valter's imposing authority over him left a bad taste in his mouth.

He could leave. But he didn't. Because throughout his entire life, no matter what had happened, Jack had always been a sucker for adventure.

Jack ran as fast as he could straight into the portal.


	3. World 1: Setting The Stage

_**Note: This chapter was originally written before the release of the movie "Rogue One." As such, the plot follows a different canon.**_

The detention block was filled with prisoners, each one an enemy to the Empire. Some were rogue men and women, amateur bounty hunters who were out of their league, or even just prisoners of war from newly colonized planets.

Jacen Qe-Kora sat in his prison cell, grinding his teeth. It was the only thing he could do. The Empire had kept him locked away for months already, and he'd grown tired and bored in every way possible. He was half tempted to start goading the patrolling Stormtroopers just to liven things up, and if they shot him for it, so be it.

Fate called his bluff. A trio of patrolling Stormtroopers casually strolled down Jacen's hall of the detention center. Two of them carried standard issue E-11 blaster rifles, while the third one had his holstered, and was holding something of interest between the three of them. They were discussing it quietly.

"I've never seen one in person." the left Stormtrooper said.

"Lord Vader says they're especially dangerous. I'm sure he would've done it personally, but he's aboard the Devastator on another mission." the middle Stormtrooper said, the one holding the object.

"It can't be too hard to carry something like that. Maybe he's just worried you'll mess it up." the right Stormtrooper said.

"How can you mess up carrying something?" Left asked.

Right shrugged. "He'd find a way I'm sure. That red button looks really inviting."

"That's probably what activates it. I'm not sure what happens if you do that, but let me tell you that if freaking Lord Vader says something is dangerous, I'm going to believe him." Middle pointed to a locked door just across the hall from Jacen's cell.

Middle bolted the odd device to the wall with a magnetic generator. "There we go. Nondescript storage closet, just like he said. Keep it out of the armory, and keep it out of any fumbling soldier's hands until Vader can deal with it himself." Middle turned around and pointed to Right. "His orders... Verbatim, I think."

"Did he mention which nondescript storage closet we had to put it in?" Left asked as the trio turned around and marched back the way they came.

"Oh, I'm sure any random one is fine. What's the worst that could happen? Niner falls on his ass again?" Middle shrugged. Right was about to lock the door, but suddenly bristled at this remark and stormed after the other two.

"It's not my fault the janitors around here are shit at their jobs! It was a wet floor and these damned suits have no traction on the feet!" The three marched down the hallway bickering until they turned a corner and vanished from sight, their voices soon fading into nothing.

Jacen stared at the nondescript storage closet. The Stormtrooper had been too distracted by an insult to close the door, so he could look straight inside. Among various strange tools and cupboards mounted to the wall, the lone object was pinned by a magnetic generator. Jacen looked away when he couldn't figure out what it was, and went back to grinding his teeth.

He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, and whirled around in surprise, slapping the hand from his shoulder.

"No, no, it's alright." the person within the cell to his right said reassuringly, who, as far as Jacen could see, was only an arm. Jacen put his hands on the bars and stuck his head out. The person to his right was a slightly older fellow, but not by much. He had neatly trimmed brown hair and a clean-shaven face, and wore a beige robe.

"Did you see that object those Stormtroopers were carrying?" he asked, pointing to the open room.

Jacen nodded. "What about it?"

The older man pointed to Jacen. "That's my weapon."

"I don't understand what you mean." Jacen said as the older man ducked back behind the bars. By the sounds of it, he was rummaging around in his clothes.

"Well, sir... That weapon there is the key part of a certain plan I have. A plan that may or may not involve escaping."

Jacen frowned. "How long have you been here for?"

"Only a few days." he responded. "I know some have been here for much longer than that. I intend to free everyone in this detention block."

Jacen leaned his back against the bars and folded his arms, drumming his fingers on his bicep. "Alright... And how do you plan to do that, when you're locked up the same as everyone else?"

"Well, it just so happens they left that door open, didn't they? I can't exactly see straight into it, mind you... But you can."

"This doesn't sound like a very well-thought-out plan." Jacen remarked.

"Goodness, this isn't part of the plan. It's a shortcut! The real plan would've taken me much longer, and I would be a fool to squander the luck and convenience of this scenario. However, for this change of plans, your assistance will be required."

Jacen scratched under his jaw. "If you really think you can get us out, I'm all ears."

The rustling from the other cell had stopped, and with a few sharp clicking noises, the older man's hand returned inside of his cell, holding a very small blaster.

"How in the hell did you smuggle this in?" Jacen asked, taking the gun from his hand.

"It breaks off into multiple pieces, and it's made of a special material that most technology scanners cannot detect. Not the kind of gun you would ever bring to a warzone, but the only kind of gun you would smuggle into prison. Now listen to me. You should be able to see the generator panel, correct?"

Jacen paced along his cell until he noticed something else within the room across from him. "Is it a wall-mounted console with an orange screen?"

"That sounds like it. I'll need you to shoot it. I cannot from my current vantage point, but once you do, the magnetic generator holding my weapon should release."

"And then what?" Jacen furrowed his brow as he tried to line up his sights with the very tiny blaster. The barrel was as long as his pinky finger.

"Leave that to me."

Jacen nodded, not thinking too much about it, and lined up his shot as best he could. He fired, and the blaster bolt hit its mark with a fiery burst of power. The generator panel shorted out and the magnetic bolts lost power, causing the mystery object to clatter to the ground of the nondescript storage closet.

"Alright, er, what next?" Jacen asked, unsure of what the man's name was, or how he planned to retrieve his weapon from all the way across the hall.

He didn't answer. Jacen was about to ask him again when the mystery object began to move. He watched, enraptured, as the strange object inched its way out of the room, until it suddenly leaped through the air and into the old man's hand.

"It is especially fortuitous we were assigned to an older detention block... The newer ones have solid doors and compartmentalized rooms."

Jacen blinked. "So it seems..." he pointed to what the old man was holding. That's a cool piece of technology."

"It gets better." the old man nodded, pressing the red button on the silver, cylindrical device. With a loud, whooshing sound, a green plasma blade extended from the upwards end. The older man swung his weapon and effortlessly cut down the bars of the cell, stepping out into the hall.

"Here, I'll need some backup." he said, swinging his glowing sword through the bars of Jacen's cell. The severed bars separated from the rest of the structure, the ends searing like hot orange embers, leaving a wide hole for Jacen to escape from.

"What is that thing?" he asked, stepping out.

"It's called a lightsaber. A weapon of the Jedi." the old man answered, sheathing the blade. "Now come on, hurry! Follow me to the control room; we have to open all of the cells in this block. It's time to cause some chaos!" the old man shouted, running off down one of the halls.

Jacen struggled to keep up with him. "What's your name?!" he called after him.

"That's not important. If you must, just call me the Jedi... And be quiet! The longer we are unnoticed, the better." the Jedi said, looking around the corner.

"Right... Okay." Jacen nodded. "But, I mean... Where did you learn to use that thing?"

"Well... I had two." he said, before suddenly taking off further down the hall. Jacen struggled to keep up with him. The Jedi ran all the way to the control room, but stopped outside the doors. Inside were four Stormtroopers overseeing the controls for this detention block.

Jacen stared at the Jedi. "Well, great. What's your plan now, Jedi? How are you going to get in there with all those Stormtroopers lounging about?"

The Jedi closed his eyes and waved his hand. Suddenly, the four Stormtroopers stood upright and, with great purpose and order, marched out of the room.

Jacen followed the Jedi into the room. "What's a Jedi doing aboard the Death Star?" he asked the Jedi, who was busy trying to unlock all of the cells.

"The empire loves nothing more than asserting their power over the helpless. Of course they would take someone like me as prisoner." he looked up at Jacen. "My plan absolutely hinged upon that idea."

Jacen's face wrinkled as the Jedi's tapping and typing grew more fervent. "You're saying it was your plan to be captured?"

"Of course." he nodded. "I can't discuss it here though. No telling of who may be listening right now. Remember, we are in the enemy's element. Let me just do my job... Now where is the control for Block 2180?"

Jacen adjusted his hat. The Jedi hit one final button and a warning popped up on screen.

"Excellent. And the armory is located... Here!" he smiled, tapping the screen emphatically. Jacen watched the Jedi run past him and out of the door.

"How many people did you just free?" he asked.

"Not sure... 600? Maybe more. And every single one of them is going to help rebel against the Empire." the Jedi barrelled down the corridor until they had returned to the old hallway with the severed cells. The area was filled with a regular cornucopia of folks; Humans, Wookiees, Bothans and a few other aliens that Jacen couldn't recognize. Everyone was escaping their cells and fleeing the hallway.

The Jedi placed his fingers in his mouth and whistled. "Follow me to the Armory! We're taking the hangars by force and leaving this place!"

Shouts and cheers from the still-remaining soldiers and aliens rang out.

Moments later, Jacen was running down the corridor with an entourage of soldiers and escapees, both ahead of and behind himself, all being led by the watchful eye and careful leadership of the nameless Jedi.

Jacen stopped after a moment, looking down one of the many hallways the Death Star had. As far as he could tell, no one had been spotted yet, and the Empire was unaware a breakout had even occurred. Good, the longer they were left unaware, the better it was for them. He continued forward. His blood was pumping, his breathing was heavy, and he struggled to keep his focus and control his nerves. He was eager to escape. Jacen had long grown sick of all the grey and black metal.

The Jedi arrived at a particular door and stopped, halting the company behind him. This is it, he muttered to himself. He drew his lightsaber and thrusted the blade forward, piercing the sturdy metal. He carved a large hole in the middle of the door and gestured everyone inside. However many hundreds of rebels there were all poured into the room, clambering with varying degrees of agility and grace through the molten hole. Every rebel armed themselves with the Imperial stash of armor, weapons, and explosives.

Jacen strapped three thermal detonators to his belt and a pistol. In his arms he carried the standard issue E-11 blaster rifle. The Jedi put his hand on his shoulder.

"I have matters to attend to now." he said.

"What? What do you mean? You said you were going to help us escape."

"That I have." he gestured to the armory. "It's all up to you now. You're out of your cells, and you're armed. Head to Hangar 84G and see if you can fight your way out. I have my own mission. For the good of the people and the safety of the galaxy, you must trust me!"

Jacen nodded nervously. "Okay. I can do that."

The Jedi gave him a final bow before he took off down one of the many corridors and rooms of the giant battlestation. The rest of the escaped prisoners jumped out of the hole in the armory and began running to the hangar, with Jacen lagging behind the head of the pack. Despite being such a large construct, Hangar 84G was relatively close by. It had only taken about ten minutes to arrive at the blast doors marking its entrance.

"Why are there so many Stormtroopers here already?" Jacen gasped.

"Who cares? Blast 'em!" one of the prisoners shouted, firing into the hangar and nailing one of the Stormtroopers. Jacen positioned himself behind a crate for cover while the firefight started up, shooting wildly over the crate and into the general area of the Stormtroopers. A blaster bolt whizzed past his head, scorching the side of his hat. He ducked down behind the crate and looked around.

Everyone else was being shot up and gunned down. Wookiees were falling over each other, Bothans couldn't infiltrate the hangar, and the floor was beginning to pile up with the bodies of troops who had been shot.

Another dived for cover next to him. Jacen turned his head to speak. "What's happening here? Stormtroopers aren't normally this accurate. They're picking us off left and right."

The man took a long, tired gasp. "I heard on the voice comms, the 501st were here on an exterior inspection. You know, Vader's personal legion of Stormtroopers."

"Blast it all to hell... We get stuck fighting the only Stormtroopers in the galaxy who can hit worth a damn." Jacen growled, rising above the crate and shooting off a few more plasma bolts before returning to cover.

He looked over his shoulder. The Stormtroopers were drastically beating out the rebels for casualties. "We won't be able to storm the hangar. It's only a matter of time before reinforcements show up."

"Well, what do you suggest we do then? Give up?!" Jacen barked, firing a few more plasma bolts into the hangar. One Stormtrooper was hit and fell backwards, but another one immediately took its place.

"Not give up... Look, this isn't the only hangar. If they're being distracted here, we could probably storm another hangar. As far as the 501st is concerned, there are more of us than there are of them, right?"

Jacen grimaced as he considered what the man was saying. "Fall back?"

"Fall back!" another one of the escaped prisoners shouted from up ahead. "Imperial reinforcements have arrived!"

Jacen watched as all the remaining rebels in the hall began backing away from the hangar, still returning fire but retreating as more Stormtroopers advanced upon them.

"We might be boned. Come on, let's run." The man told Jacen, charging through to the rest of the fleeing rebels.

Jacen ran back through the hallways and rooms while the Stormtroopers' blasters were hot on his trail. He took a sharp turn to the left and overheard of a nearby group of rebels.

"We're going back to the prison block." he was telling the others; six soldiers, one demolitions expert and a Wookiee with a rocket launcher. "Once we converge there, we'll have enough cumulative force to stick it to every Stormtrooper on this battlestation."

The memo had gotten out, and Jacen noticed it wasn't just a small detachment returning to the prison block. Hundreds of them began to regroup where they had been freed, though troves less than what Jacen had seen before. Jacen hopped into the command center, where a few of them were trying to devise a plan over the computers that the Jedi had used to free everyone just hours ago.

"What if we just blow everything up?" one of them asked.

Jacen rested his hands on the top of the console. The man at the control panel stared up at him and squinted. "Hey, you're that guy that the Jedi was talking to, aren't you?"

Jacen nodded.

"Does that mean you're like... second-in-command of this operation?"

Jacen hesitantly nodded again.

"Right, so you come up with the plan then, I'm all out of ideas."

Jacen didn't know where to start either... So he went from the top. "We're going to escape. The 501st might have us pinned down for now, but we outnumber them. We can either ambush them or use decoys to provide cover while we escape from right under their noses."

"The 501st are following us." another nodded anxiously.

"Do you think we could loop around and go back to 84G?" yet another asked.

Jacen shook his head. "No. The 501st would not leave the hangar if it wasn't secured by ample reinforcements. Their guard isn't going to drop until this is over. We need to use their momentum against them."

"How are we going to do that?"

The demolitions expert spoke up. He had a deep baritone that set him apart from the rest. "We can't take the hangar by force, that didn't work last time and it won't work again."

"And 84G is out of the question. Is there escape pods we can use?"

"None enough for all of us prisoners." a third spoke up.

The demolitions expert massaged his sore arm. There was a burning hole in the sleeve of his armor where he'd been shot.

"I agree with the boy. We need a distraction." he walked towards the console and hit a few of the buttons. A projection of the local area shot out from one of the screens.

"The fire control room is only a few minutes away." he pointed on the map. "If we focus our efforts there and act like we're going to sabotage the Death Star's superlaser, the Empire put all of their forces behind stopping us. From there, we can have some of our Bothan allies infiltrate the other nearby hangar and secure our escape."

Jacen eagerly pointed to the hangar almost connected to the Fire Control Room. "Hangar 85G! There's even a Sentinel landing craft there."

"Solid plan. I'll inform the others." one of the prisoners nodded, taking three other soldiers with him. Just as Jacen and the others were about to leave, a younger-looking soldier burst into the control room. He stopped at the door and doubled over, putting one hand on his knee. He was panting and wheezing like he hadn't run so fast in all his life.

"What's the rush, soldier?" the demolitions expert asked the young man. In response, he held up his other hand, which was holding a holodisk.

"Death Star plans." he panted. "The Jedi gave them to me. I have to deliver them to..." he muttered something, but through his wheezing no one could understand it.

"Son of a bitch just Rogue One'd us!" The demolitions expert shouted happily. "Alright, new plan. This holodisk is now our top priority. Even if we don't all make it, we absolutely need to secure these plans. It will be the end of the Death Star and the Empire as we know it!"

He leveled his Flechette shotgun at a control panel and fired, frying the gate controls and opening the door to the rear of the command outpost.

"What do you do, son?" he bellowed at the young man.

"Me? I-I'm a radio and communications officer."

"Fantastic! I have just the job in mind for you. Everyone else, quickly now! We need to make sure the Empire doesn't recover these before we can beam them off-station!"

The newly opened hallway bathed everyone in a red light as they made brisk pace towards the heart of the Death Star. Jacen stayed behind. He could hear the commotion outside growing louder. He peered out of the control room and saw the approaching swarm of Stormtroopers blasting and firing their way down the hallway.

Jacen ducked inside just as a blaster bolt whizzed past him. He shut the door behind him.

He jumped over the control console and tried to find a way to seal the door shut from the Stormtroopers. He looked through the menus, the different buttons, the various access points, but nothing jumped out at him. There were a few knobs and switches with promising inscriptions.

The whooshing sound activated as the door began to lift open.

To hell with it, press ALL the buttons then. Jacen swiped a few switches, turned a few knobs and mashed a few buttons until the door suddenly jammed at knee-height.

"Did I do it?!" he asked out loud to whatever deity was watching him. The screen read "Syntax Error: Unrecognized Input, Call a Technician"

Well, it wasn't an emergency lock, but it would do. One of the Stormtroopers pounded on the door with his fist, as if knocking hard enough would open it.

Jacen unclipped a thermal detonator from his belt and rolled it under the door, then took off as fast as he could manage in the other direction. Hopefully he took at least a few of the 501st out. At the very least, he'd helped the team with the Death Star plans get an ample lead.

The red-lit hallway eventually emptied out, after countless twists and turns, into the largest room Jacen had seen yet aboard the Death Star.

Green slatted lights adorned the metal walls in narrow columns spanning from the high ceiling, all the way down to the bottomless abyss below, in what could only be described as an extremely quick, one way trip down to the center of the battlestation. Towers adorned the empty space within the massive room, acting either as pillars or control terminals for different features and mechanics of systems within the Death Star. Green platforms hugged the walls of the room, ramping up and down before they lead into the door far to the left. Jacen hoped that was the Fire Control Room.

He treaded the platforms carefully. Unlike most many, many other falling hazards in this damned place, there was no protective railing on these platforms. They were wide enough for a person to walk to on, but not two people side by side. While he carefully traversed the platforms above the abyss, he realized for the first time what the natural sound of the Death Star was. Steam vents were hissing in the distance and echoed through the cavernous empty space. The machinery aboard warbled and beeped away dutifully. If he listened very carefully, in the distance he could hear the firefight happening between the remaining prisoners and the Stormtroopers.

When Jacen arrived at the Fire Control Room, the prisoners had already taken it over. There were around a hundred rebels in this room, though with how big the room was, it wasn't at all crowded. A few of the guarding soldiers nodded to him, while others were trying to operate the control panel for the superlaser. The Wookiee with the rocket launcher was there again, and so was the demolitions expert. Jacen had never been a big fan of Wookiees, but at this point, any help was appreciated.

"How's the situation looking, Olesa?" one of the other rebels barked with a voice like tree bark.

The demolitions expert was resting against the wall. "Empire doesn't know we're here yet."

"Oh they know. Trust me, nothing gets past the Empire." one of the more skittish rebelling technicians spoke up, plugging away at the control panel for the Death Star's superlaser. "The Death Star's just a real big place, see? It can take 'em minutes at a time to get from where they are to where we are. That at least gives us plenty of time to secure the exits. By the way, the Bothans have already departed for 85G. We're going to distract the hell out of those Imperial bastards."

Olesa nodded his head slowly, staring around the room. "Let's hope they take all the time they need. We could use it. Where's that damn Jedi at anyways? We could really use a guy like him."

"Uh, about that... Aren't the Jedi evil? Like, really bad?" the skittish one asked.

"But this one helped us get out. What're you saying?"

"I'm just saying, like thirty years ago they tried to take over the government, and that's when the Empire wiped them all out."

"Sounds like a lot of Imperial propaganda if you ask me. I've never much cared for what side wants us to believe is the truth. I trust actions and my own personal intuitions more than what side is what. Isn't that right, Pushooka?"

The Wookiee belted out a howl.

"Where are the plans?" Jacen asked.

"They've all gone ahead." Olesa gestured through the door. "Half of us are here. With hope, it's enough to distract the Imperials long enough for the other half of the prisoners to escape. While the Empire's so busy protecting their precious battlestation, the others going to board the ship and use the onboard transmitter to send the signal... anywhere, honestly. Anywhere that isn't Empire-controlled. It couldn't be easier."

Jacen had a nagging feeling in the back of his head. "I'll go ahead with them, if that's alright."

"You really wanna separate yourself? It could end badly for you." Olesa warned, raising his eyebrow. "We don't know where the others are. Just going by yourself could be trouble."

Olesa had a point, but his mind was made up. "I've come this far. Besides, I can't help but feel they might need me. We might even run into the Jedi once we're out there."

"Well, if you want... Corzan, how long until the Imperials arrive here?"

"You still have a ninety seconds. With twenty seconds to unseal and re-seal, that's plenty of time to just pop out. But I got to warn you, once you're out, you aren't getting back in." the skittish guy reported.

Jacen tipped his hat. "I'll see you on the transport shuttle."

"Don't humor us." Olesa smiled. "Most of us here are just committed to seeing the plans out. We probably won't make it. But you can be damned sure we're gonna take down as much of the Empire as we can from within this room."

Jacen grinned. "It was worth a shot. Here, you could probably use this more than I could." He unclipped the second thermal detonator from his belt and handed it to Olesa.

Olesa held it up to the light and smiled. "Yeah. I'll try to make sure this one counts. Godspeed, Jacen."

The door opened, Jacen left, and the door closed.

Hangar 85G was almost identical to 84G. The only differences were that TIE Fighters were hung from the ceiling, adhered to the walls, or resting upon the hangar floor itself. Jacen hid along the cold steel walls and inched his way across the upper levels, trying his best to stay out of sight of the standard patrolling officers within the hangar bay. In the middle of the hangar sat the transport vessel, a Sentinel-class landing craft; their ticket out of here.

One of the Stormtroopers suddenly stopped in the middle of his patrol. He put his hand up to his ear, and a few seconds later he started running towards the fire control center. The other patrolling Stormtroopers followed suit. Good, Jacen thought.

A few bright lights suddenly flashed through the hangar control windows. That's probably where the other prisoners were. He skipped through the hangar until he reached the stairway leading up to the control room. The door whooshed open, and at least two dozen prisoners immediately leveled their guns towards him.

"Easy." Jacen raised his hands.

"Bloody hell." one of the other rebels muttered, shouldering her rifle against her pauldron. "We thought you were another Stormtrooper."

Jacen stared at the controls one of the technicians was hovering over. This place had a lot of control panels, didn't it?

"What's the plan now?"

The technician pointed through the massive window at the front of the room, down towards the transport shuttle. "We're going to clear the shuttle for launch. If we just flew off right now, the Death Star would just pull it back with the tractor beams. So I'm going to register a valid security certificate for the aircraft to leave. Once that's set up, we run like hell."

"How long do you think that will take?"

"Not any longer than ten minutes. Things seem to be heating up in the fire control room so I'll try to be as quick as I can."

Jacen squinted. "Was... was that a pun?"

His remark went unnoticed however when the technician happened upon something. "No way. No freakin' way."

The rest of them began clamoring around him. This was a lot of chatter, considering there were at least a hundred present here as well.

"Good or bad?" the girl with the pauldron cut through the rabble.

The technician bit his lip. "Actually, it might not be that good. The console is outfitted for radio transmissions, so we could send the Death Star plans through here. But it's configured to output to another Imperial station. I don't know radio codex well enough to re-route the signal to a non-Empire facility."

"Let's just stick with the plan then. Use the ship to send the signal. It's much less problematic anyways."

"Polis Massa should be the location." the young man spoke up. "They have ties to the Old Republic. If anyone would know what to do with the Death Star plans, it would be them."

The technician hummed for a few minutes while chewing through the Imperial protocol systems. Jacen didn't pretend to understand what he saw on the screen, he never did, but it enlightened him to exactly how bureaucratic, systematic and rather boring the Empire must've been on the mundane level. You know, when they weren't committing genocide.

"Got it! Let's move out before they realize I just exploited a system error." the technician gasped, hurling himself from his chair.

Jacen was bounced around the stairwell with the flood of prisoners flowing down alongside him, but somehow found his way to the floor of the hangar, along with everyone else, in less than a minute. The technician was already gunning it towards the transport, opening the main passenger door, and jumping into the cockpit.

"Shit. We've got a situation." the one with the pauldron spoke up, handing her gun to Jacen. Sure enough, through the door, another flood of Stormtroopers were entering the hangar to try and stop the prisoners from escaping.

"How? I thought they were being distracted by the fire control room."

"It's probably just a small squadron. I'll cover us!" Pauldron shouted, unstrapping the rocket launcher from her back and dropping to one knee.

"Well, that's one way to solve a problem." Jacen stammered as she fired a missile straight into the doorway, torching at least four or five Stormtroopers.

Jacen stared down at the gun the pauldron lady had given him. It was actually a few marks better than the one he'd liberated from the armory. Jacen dropped to cover near Pauldron and began firing into the doorway as well. The rifle had harder recoil, but it appeared to pulse energy bolts instead of the standard plasma bolts found in most blasters. It had a lot more stopping power, which was exactly what he needed in this situation.

He looked over his shoulder. At least a dozen other prisoners had all surrounded him, raining punishment into the doorway along with him. There were still people running wildly into the transport, but they were only literal seconds away from being able to take off.

Jacen had the sinking realization that these dozen odd prisoners, himself included, probably wouldn't be boarding the transport. They were going to do the heroic thing and provide cover for everyone else to escape.

Well, that suited him just fine. If the plans hadn't already been sent, they would be soon after the ship left the hangar.

A figure in beige suddenly leaped in between them from the upper level.

"Here I was thinking you all might've needed my help, but it looks like you've got this one under control." the Jedi greeted them.

Jacen stared grimly down the barrel of his blaster. "We're doing our best. How about you, huh? Where the heck have you been?"

"Found my other lightsaber." he smirked, igniting both of his blades. He had a green one and a blue one.

"I'll hold them off as much as I can. You all get in the ship and get out of here!"

"What about you?"

The Jedi cocked his eyebrow at Jacen. "The Empire would never let a Jedi live. That was all part of the plan."

Before Jacen could say another word, the Jedi had leapt a good thirty feet in the air and dive-bombed the Stormtroopers like a green and blue blender.

"On the ship! On the ship!" Pauldron suddenly shouted, chucking her rocket launcher into the craft and scrambling onboard.

A few moments later the ship levitated from the floor of the hangar.

"Last call!" the pilot shouted to the troops still defending the craft, before everyone turned and jumped for the airborne transport craft. People hung out of the open doors, offering their hands to help the last few soldiers up.

An errant missile suddenly shrieked through the air and struck the side of the transport vessel. The ship was airborne for a mere four seconds before loudly crashing to the ground once more. Another missile strike sent the whole thing up in a fiery explosion of heat and shrapnel.

Jacen had just enough time to cover his face before he was thrown back, along with everyone else.

The 501st shock trooper reloaded his rocket launcher, staring down the sights for any more threats to nuke. Vader's Elite had reconvened at the hangar just as reinforcements arrived.

Jacen slumped against the wall, holding his stomach. Shrapnel stuck out of his torso and his arm. Blood seeped through his clothes and onto the ground around him. He stared forlornly at the burning heap of rubbish that was once their only escape route. How many rebelling prisoners were there left now? Less than ten? He looked around, and found that the room had been completely swarmed by Stormtroopers. It had to number in the thousands.

The young man with the Death Star plans was probably on that ship. They hadn't even left the space station yet to start transmitting, and they had already been blown to pieces. The absolute, crushing defeat stunk in Jacen's gut worse than the twisted metal.

All was lost until a victorious screech sounded from the stairwell.

It was the young man. He hadn't boarded the ship at all! He'd stayed behind, but why?

Realization hit Jacen like a fucking brick. He was a radio and communications officer! The technician didn't know how to rewire a radio codex but that was literally the young man's job description!

"I did it!" he waved his hands frantically towards anyone who was still alive. "I've sent the plans!"

A Stormtrooper standing behind him leveled his pistol and shot him the back of the head. The young man collapsed to the ground, right next to the corpses of the pauldron girl and the Jedi.

It was a heavy loss of life. But the only thing that mattered had happened: The plans had been beamed off-base, probably to Polis Massa. The rebellion against the Death Star had succeeded.

The Empire had lost.

Four Stormtroopers marched towards Jacen's broken body, blasters extended, just begging for an excuse to shoot even more burning wounds into him. Jacen's gun meanwhile had been blown away in the explosion. Not that he was in any condition to fight back, or even live for much longer than a few more minutes.

But he did have one thing left he could do. One last thermal detonator.


	4. World 1: We Aren't in Desultorus Anymore

Jack was not accustomed to jumping through interdimensional portals, and thus he did not have perfect form. Instead, he landed face-first into a pile of sand with enough force to wedge himself up to the ears.

He pulled himself from his ostrich state and shook the sand out of his brown hair with his good arm. For goodness sake, he'd never be able to get it all out until he'd had a shower. Until then he could enjoy bits of sand falling down the back of his shirt or his hair feeling stiff, coarse and dusty in the interim.

With enough sand cleared from his face to see, he found that it was sand for miles. He was in a desert. Umber and Valter had similarly graceless landings, while Boba Fett had managed some kind of badass combat roll and stood completely unscathed.

"Ugh!" Umber cried out, frantically shaking the sand from her hair. Well, she did have a lot more hair than Jack, so perhaps she had more cause for alarm.

"Where are we anyways?" she gawked, staring at the everywhere sand. It wasn't just the strange environment; none of them were used to such wide expanses. Desultorus was built around rather confining and rocky terrain. Here, they could all easily see right up to the horizon line, something beyond comprehension in their homeland.

Boba Fett stared down at a wrist-mounted device and stayed silent. Valter's head wobbled around in a panic.

"Alright, there doesn't seem to be anyone around. This may be a secure portal location… But we should be quick. If no one's manning the controls on the other side, I fear for what could happen to us while we're in here."

Umber finished wiping her face and spoke up. "I actually had one of the ideas maintain the portal. He seemed to be from an alignment that deals with space and interdimensional properties a lot already."

The doctor let out a weary groan. "I suppose it may be better than nothing. Truthfully I still do not understand all of the properties our realities have interacting with one another."

Jack stared up at the sky. The portal in this universe looked just like the one in the lab; a twirling vortex of black and red about twice the width of Jack's arm span, so he estimated it at about 15 feet wide. The portal itself was angled at about 45 degrees towards the ground, some hundreds of feet in the air.

"And you say there's no way of closing that until ALL of the ideas are back where they belong?" Jack asked, side-eyeing the portal as he turned his body around.

"Precisely. Ergo, I advise we move forthwith. Firstly, we must ascertain our location."

"Tatooine." Boba Fett answered gruffly.

Jack paused. They had Boba Fett, a Star Wars character, on Tatooine, a Star Wars planet.

"Er, aren't we done then?" he asked. After all, their mission was to put the ideas back in their respective alignments. They'd just done that.

"I mean, I'm not a big Star Wars buff, but doesn't Boba Fett go to Tatooine? Hell, how specific is this alignment thing anyway? Do we need to put him at the exact location he was or can we just dump him here?"

Valter leaned his head back and bit his lip. "I wish I knew. Unfortunately I've never really considered this happening, let alone the science behind how and why in case such a thing did happen."

"This is literally the fate of the universe, Doc."

"Well, pardon me, Jack the Finder, but I never anticipated my stabilizer being destroyed!"

A sudden bolt of energy scorched the sand by their feet. Boba stood silent, blaster extended, for a moment longer.

"I wasn't on Tatooine." He growled. "I was on Vader's Star Destroyer. That's where I left my ship."

Boba Fett pressed his pistol against the side of Doctor Valter's head.

"I don't really know who you three are, and I don't really care. But you seem to be the one in charge. You said that portal would take me back to where I was before, but I don't see my ship anywhere around here. That's a problem. So why don't you tell me EXACTLY what's going on here or where you screwed up and maybe I won't kill you on the spot."

Jack eyed Umber. "He just said more than he did in the entire trilogy."

"Wormholes!" Umber shouted in a panic. Boba's helmet swung to face her, so she continued. "Uh… You know how there's wormholes in space? Imagine if there was a wormhole… OUTSIDE of space. That takes you to an entirely different universe. That's what happened. But now we've taken you back to your universe. And that's kind of the problem we're facing right now. If we don't take you back to where you belong, then, well, all of our universes could be destroyed by some kind of…"

Umber turned to Valter for help.

"Reality collapse."

"Reality collapse!" she parroted. "So, for the sake of your universe, our universe, and pretty much everyone other universe, I'd ask you don't shoot him. We really need him. And we need your help too, to get you back where you belong."

Boba Fett was silent for a moment. His pistol was still pressed against the side of Valter's head. If anything, his finger squeezed closer around the trigger.

But he relented. He shoved the pistol back into its holster and held up his wrist-mounted device.

"Before, my synchro-locator couldn't identify my location. Now it says we're on Tatooine, just a few miles to the north of Mos Espa. Once there, we're finding a way off this planet and back to my ship. Understand?"

Valter nodded without a word. Umber and Jack followed suit.

"Then we've got no time to waste." Boba turned around and marched in the direction of the city.

Jack smoothed off his clothes while they walked. Man, this sand stuff really did get everywhere.

"Hey doc, if Boba Fett was on Vader's ship when he poofed into our world, does that mean there's a portal there? Is Vader going to come into our world?"

Valter shook his head. "Thankfully, that's not always the case. Ideas seem to have been pulled at random from different alignments, regardless of portal locations. I'll have to look into the science behind it some more. It must be some kind of space-time anomaly or something, but it's not a danger we have to worry about for now."

Umber side-eyed the bounty hunter. "The only danger we should be worrying about right now is… him."

Mos Espa was a cobbled-together heap of amateur merchant shops, where bizarre looking aliens and some downright abominations were selling food, scrapped machinery and parts, or various other paraphernalia.

"Jesus." Jack muttered. He didn't realize until now just how in-your-face everything about this was. It was one thing to see these freaky aliens on a screen, it was quite another to be so close to them that you could smell the rancid bastards, much less bump into them. The cognitive dissonance was beginning to wear off, and he slowly became more and more aware that he was actually, physically, within a story. The buildings were real, the alien creatures were real, and the sand falling down the back of his shirt was most definitely real. He wasn't so much nervous or apprehensive as he was overwhelmed.

Jack turned to Umber, who had pinched her nose shut in quiet protest of the cacophony of odd smells.

"So, it just clicked for me that we are IN THE SHIT right now. I might be freaking out a little bit. How are you holding up?" he asked the stout female.

"Trying to cope with the smell." Her voice took a nasally tone with her nose plugged. "That and the bounty hunter who could kill us at any moment."

On cue, the bounty hunter stopped in his tracks, looking left to right in the middle of the road.

"There used to be an Imperial outpost set up around here…"

Jack turned around, and noticed for the first time two normal looking people. There was a taller, older man with brown hair, and young girl in a brown and blue outfit. Following them was some kind of short cylindrical robot with three legs, and some… orange, amphibious looking thing. Jack felt uneasy just looking at it.

Jack nudged Umber, who turned around. "Look, normal people. There are humans in Star Wars, right? That's probably one of them."

Umber immediately recognized the characters in front of her. Anxiety suddenly caught in her throat, and she lost the ability to speak. Instead, she squeaked out an urgent wheeze and flapped her hands in a panic in front of her face.

"Oy, Umber, what's up? You get some sand in your throat?" Jack asked, patting her on the back.

She coughed and choked for a few more moments. When she eventually regained the ability to speak, she spun around and shrieked.

"Valter! We're in the wrong alignment!"

The doctor wrinkled his nose. "Impossible. I tracked the idea's energy signature to this specific universe within the IdeaSpace. This is most certainly where it belongs."

Umber pursed her lips and went red in the face. "Did you bother to put temporal considerations into your calculations?"

Valter rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to speak. No words came out. His eyes suddenly blasted open. "Uh… No, actually, I don't think I did. The inherent nature of space-time should've just put us automatically within the appropriate timeframe when locking on to the idea's alignment signature."

"Well, clearly something went wrong." She persisted, ruffling her hair.

Jack held out his hands in a shrug. "I don't get it. What's the big idea? This is Tatooine, right? Star Wars? That's where Boba Fett belongs right?"

Umber squinted at him. "Jack, how much Star Wars have you seen?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Uh, the first three…? I told you I wasn't a huge Star Wars fan."

"Right. The original trilogy, where Boba Fett belongs. But that's not where we are! We're in the fucking prequels!"

Jack covered his mouth. "Aw shit. I`ve heard about those."

"That's… That's bad right?" Valter furrowed his brow and turned to Umber.

Umber squished her index finger and thumb together. "Maybe just a little bit. You guys feel like waiting 32 years?"

"Okay, so that's bad." Valter answered resolutely. "No big deal. We can just go back through the portal and recalibrate the exit point."

And like he always did, Boba Fett pulled out his pistol. Jack quickly held out his hands, beseeching him to wait. "I know what you're thinking…"

Boba Fett stared him down.

"…and the answer may surprise you."

"I'm not going back." He ordered. "I don't care what dimension-hopping bullshit you freaks have fed to me so far, I'm not being lead around the universe on a leash. I'm finally back on a planet I recognize, and I'm staying here."

Valter nudged Jack and pulled Umber to the side, where the three of them reconvened privately.

"Jack, you're more of a 'people person' than I am. Please convince him otherwise, or we're going to be here for a very long time." The doctor implored him nervously.

Jack pursed his lips and looked up at the sky. Contrails from planes and other spacecraft above the planet decorated the sky. "I have a better idea."

"Jack, please don't—"

"Valter, think about it. How much technology do you think exists here that we don't have in Desultorus? Spaceships, hyperdrives, traveling faster than the speed of light, sentient worker robots…"

Umber snapped her finger. "Wait a minute. Wasn't there a Kessel run somewhere near a black hole?"

Jack scoffed. "You do not want to ask me that question."

"I wasn't."

Jack turned his head to see Valter slowly nodding. "Is that what you're suggesting, Umber?"

She haplessly shrugged. "Well, it's worth a shot."

Jack put his hands on his hips. "Alright, could one of you smart people please explain to me what magical revelation you've come upon? And please, use small words."

Umber waved her hand. "Don't worry, it's quite simple. A black hole's event horizon serves as a boundary in space-time where the presence of a mass deforms Minkowski space so that the paths taken by particles bends towards—"

"Smaller words."

Her face flushed a little. "Uh, black holes possess gravitational time dilation properties, which—"

"Still smaller, please."

She puffed out her cheeks. "Time moves slower around black holes."

"There you go."

"Why don't I just speak like a caveman then?" she sneered. "We get close to black hole. Time move slow. One minute for us. Much more time for rest of universe."

She turned to Valter. "Actually, how much time dilation would the universe experience relative to one minute around an event horizon?"

Valter blinked. "Oh god, you're asking me to calculate something like that after the day I've had?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean—"

"No, no, it's fine." Valter waved his hand, pinching his nose bridge. A three second silence passed before Umber tried speaking again, but she was cut off by Valter.

"At 99.9992% the speed of light, 1 second would be about 250 seconds and 1 minute would be 4 hours and 10 minute. So that gives means… Hang on, give me a second… 1 year could be bypassed in 35 hours, 2 minutes and 23 seconds."

Umber ruffled her hair. "So 32 years would be about… a month and a half?"

"But who knows." He threw his arms out in exasperated gesticulation. "Dilation just gets exponentially higher the closer you get to light speed and we're dealing with potentially superluminal technology, which is a whole different wheelhouse than what I can understand."

Jack was even more lost than he was before. But something about black holes made time move slower for them, and by comparison, faster for the rest of the universe. "So, what does this all mean? Are we using black holes to go into the future?"

Valter wiped his hands down his formerly-white lab coat, which was now fully stained with a faint desert yellow. "Consider it an option. Perhaps even a last resort. We're not aware of the technological limitations of this world, or how to even fly their ships or operate their technology. If we can't find another way out, then we'll likely have to use the slingshot method."

"Let's call it Operation Slingshot. That sounds cool." Jack suggested.

Valter ignored him. "The only issue now is setting about acquiring such a vessel and learning the mechanics of how it works."

The humans from before had exited the shop. Something clicked in Umber's mind. But she didn't think she was charismatic enough to pull it off. She let out another nervous squeak as she tried to think of a way to explain her plan.

"What's up, Umber?" Jack stared down at her, open to hearing anything she had to say.

She gnawed on the corner of her lip. "I might need you to do something for me, but it's pretty time-sensitive. How good's your memory?"

A few minutes later, Jack came screeching to a halt in front of the group. Umber had given him a quick rundown on who each of these people were, and what he had to say to them.

The man standing before him was Qui-Gon, the Jedi who taught Ben Kenobi about the Force, how to shake a lightsaber and other pretentious mysticisms. He hadn't expected him to be as tall as he was; Qui-Gon was nearly a half foot taller than Jack. Kind of intimidating, especially with the proud, authoritative stare he was giving him.

"Hi." Was all Jack could muster in the moment.

"Good day." Qui-Gon gave him the smallest nod of his head. "Do you have business with me?"

"Kind of. I'm here about your hyperdrive problems."

Qui-Gon gestured openly with his hand. "By all means."

Whatever Jack was going to say next, it was lost forever. He became distracted with the sight unfolding behind the group.

The 'Jar Jar Binks' creature had shot out its six foot long tongue and slurped up what appeared to be a dead frog, hung from one of the merchant stalls. The food vendor suddenly appeared and began cursing out the dumb fuck.

"Are you going to pay for that?" the merchant shouted in some alien language. "That costs seven wupiupi!"

Jar Jar let out a screech of disapproval and vomited up the frog, which sent it pinwheeling across the market until it came to a stop with a loud splash in some alien's soup.

The insulted alien in question jumped over the table and pounced onto Jar Jar, holding up the frog in his… feet? After a few more gibberings from the orange idiot, the odd creature began choking him.

"Uh, isn't that guy with you?" Jack asked, pointing towards the scene.

Qui-Gon turned around and sighed "That he is." before racing towards him. The girl and the robot quickly followed behind him.

However, by the time they arrived, Jar Jar had already been rescued by a small child, and the upset alien had left the area, presumably to go do alien things.

"Hi!" the boy waved as they all approached him. Oh good, Jack thought, he wasn't the only one who opened conversations that way. Qui-Gon and the others extended their greetings to him as well.

"Your buddy here was about to be turned into orange goo. He picked a fight with a Dug. An especially dangerous Dug called Sebulba."

Jar Jar began spluttering something, but Jack couldn't understand a word he said. It sounded like a very broken, arbitrary accent of English. Jack decided against saying something rude.

"Nevertheless, the boy is right; you were heading for trouble. Thanks, my young friend."

The young kid smiled. Qui-Gon turned back to Jack.

"Now, what were you saying before about a hyperdrive?"

Jack had actually forgotten what he was supposed to say at this point. Due to his nature, he decided to wing it.

"I know how to get you that hyperdrive. In exchange, you have to help us get off this planet. We're kind of stuck here."

Qui-Gon shook his head. "I'm sorry, but we cannot afford this. We're on a very important mission that can't be taking on too many travelers."

"No no, see… Uh…" Jack was blanking at this point. Out of desperation, he just began spouting words and terms Umber had told him.

"Jedi."

Qui-Gon squinted. "Pardon?"

"Qui-Gon Jinn. Obi-Wan Kenobi. Padme. R2-D2."

The Jedi cocked his head, staring briefly at the young girl Padme by his side. "Am I to believe you've been spying on us?"

Jack held out his hands. "No! I mean, we're on your side. We want to help you. We like you guys."

"Who's this 'we' you keep talking about? And how do you know all of these things?" Padme put her hand on her hip.

Fuck.

Jack put on a tight, grisly grin. "You'll have to ask my friend, the short woman there with the brown hair. She's the one who knows everything. I'm just the messenger because she's too nervous to talk to people."

Qui-Gon nodded. "I see. We shall have a talk with her."

"Do you guys have any food?" the young boy asked again.

Qui-Gon was efficient and quick with his responses. "Not on hand."

"I know where you can get some! There's this old lady named Jira. Real nice. I buy pallies from her all the time."

"Perhaps we shall talk on the way then. Does this suit you?" Qui-Gon raised his eyebrow at Jack. He nodded furiously.

Umber stood anxiously besides Valter and Boba Fett, watching Jack at a distance while he talked to the Jedi and the young woman, who was actually the Queen of Naboo. She felt a sudden panic when he began marching back towards her with the group in tow; though she probably would have panicked if they had parted ways as well. For now at least, this was a good thing, but she didn't know what she would say or do once they got here.

The Jedi approached her directly.

"Hi." Umber spluttered.

"Hello there. I understand you have some knowledge about who we are." Qui-Gon began, and the whole group began to walk down the market together. Valter and Boba Fett trailed behind in silence.

Umber nodded quickly. "But don't worry. We won't tell the Trade Federation. Or the Hutts. Or anyone, really. We're just stuck here on this planet and need a way out."

She glanced towards Padme. "And, don't worry. Your secret's safe with me."

"Secret?" Qui-Gon turned to Padme, whose eyes had shot open with surprise. "What secret?"

"Nothing. Sorry, it's just an embarrassing story from when I was a kid." The Queen tried to adlib. Qui-Gon was wholly aware that he was being lead along a ruse, but decided he didn't care enough. Instead, he turned back to Umber.

"May I ask how you came upon this knowledge?"

Umber paused for a moment, before weakly suggesting. "We're… seers?"

"Please." Qui-Gon waved his hand. "Tell me how you came really upon this knowledge."

Umber gawked. Was she really being Jedi mind-tricked? It wasn't effective on her, but maybe she should just go along with it anyways. Especially if he could tell she was lying.

"We're from another universe."

Qui-Gon's eyebrows hiked up. He actually seemed to buy it. "Alright then, I won't question it."

"I for one do not trust these newcomers who just so happen to know our names, identity and mission here. This is a massive security risk." Padme clenched her jaw. Artoo made a series of worried beeps.

"You are quite right." The Jedi nodded to her. "That is precisely why we must not let them out of our sight."

The young boy had stopped leading them down the road, and was now busy making an exchange with an older woman.

"Who's that again?" Jack whispered to Umber.

"That's Anakin. You know, Anakin Skywalker?"

"Ah, yes." Jack nodded, briefly checking to see if Qui-Gon was watching them. He was. Probably not a good idea to bring up Darth Vader then.

"Here, you'll like these pallies. Here." Anakin handed Qui-Gon a fistful of fruits.

"Thank you." He nodded graciously, placing the fruits into a pouch under his robe. Jack and Anakin both caught a glimpse of his lightsaber for just a moment.

"Oh, my bones are aching." The fruit vendor warned. "Storm's coming up, Annie. You'd better get home quick."

Anakin stared up at Qui-Gon. "Do you have shelter?"

"We'll head back to our ship."

"Is it far?"

"It's on the outskirts."

Anakin shook his head. "You'll never make it in time. Sandstorms are very, very dangerous. Come on! I'll take you to my place!"

Anakin lead the way once more.

"Why do we need to associate with these people again?" Valter whispered, tucking his arms in against his chest.

"We're just re-enacting the first prequel movie." Umber explained. "Next, we're going to Anakin's house to talk about podracing and gambling, and the next day there's the Boonta Eve Podrace. Once Anakin wins that, the Queen will have the parts needed to repair the ship and they'll be able to leave the planet. From there, we just have to fly to Kessel."

"Do we have to worry about changing the course of Star Wars history? Or some Marty McFly bullshit like that?" Jack asked. Qui-Gon was staring at them once more.

"No, it wouldn't matter. That would just spawn another alignment with those series of events while the original alignment would be unaltered. This alignment was already altered the moment that Boba Fett appeared in our world, so it's not like we have to walk on eggshells."

Sand suddenly kicked up into Valter's face, coating him and his hair in the fine substrate. The winds were slowly picking up into the beginning of a sand blizzard.

"I rescind my previous rejections." Valter blurted out. "Let us follow these people to suitable shelter. I can imagine the weather will only get worse."

Fortunately, no one was blown off their feet or buried before the group could reach the slave abode. Anakin called to his mother while everyone clambered inside.

"Annie, what's all this?" his mother asked, staring at all the people now in her house. Umber realized it wasn't as crowded in the original movie, just Qui-Gon, Padme, Jar Jar and R2-D2. But with the addition of Our HeroesTM, there were now ten people (counting Artoo) in a space designed for two.

"These are my friends, Mom. This is Padme, and… gee, I don't know any of your names."

"I'm Qui-Gon Jinn, this is Jar Jar Binks, and the droid is R2-D2. The others, I am not so sure of."

"Uh, hi! I'm Umber." She waved meekly.

The doctor nodded his head politely towards Anakin's mother. "Doctor Valter, if you would kindly."

"And I'm Jack. This guy over here is…" Jack began to introduce Boba Fett, but Umber quickly grabbed his hand and shook her head.

"…Jaster." Jack said instead. "He's a quiet guy. We're on an escort mission to bring him back to his home."

Boba Fett didn't acknowledge any of this, and stayed in the corner.

Anakin turned to Padme. "I'm building a droid. You wanna see?"

Umber cocked her head. "A droid?"

Anakin nodded to her, and opened his mouth to speak, but his mother cut him off. "Anakin, why are they here?"

"The sandstorm, Mom. Listen."

The room went quiet. Well, as quiet as it could be, but the howling winds outside were hard to ignore when no one was talking.

"Your son was kind enough to offer shelter." Qui-Gon explained.

Anakin suddenly grabbed both Umber and Padme's hands. "Come on, let me show you Threepio!" he cheered, tugging them deeper into the house. Artoo followed behind, beeping ecstatically.

Qui-Gon retrieved five small capsules from his belt, holding them in his palm. "I have enough for a meal."

The mother's expression immediately changed from skeptical to surprised. "Oh! Thank you, thank you so much. I'm sorry if I was abrupt. I'll never get used to Anakin's surprises."

"He's a very special boy." Qui-Gon nodded to her.

Shmi side-eyed him, almost looking suspicious. "…Yes, I know."

Jack was feeling rather peckish – He hadn't eaten anything for most of the day. The last thing he'd even had to drink was back at the bar he'd met Umber.

It was strange to think that just a few hours ago he didn't even know these people. He'd just lived in Desultorus for most of his life. Now in a matter of hours, his life had changed completely, and here he was inside some kind of alternate dimension eating food with Anakin Skywalker and Qui-Gon Jinn.

Most of everyone was seated at the table, except for Boba Fett, who was still standing in the corner, taking some kind of silent objection to the thought of eating. Qui-Gon hadn't called attention to him yet, but Jack could tell he was definitely wary of his presence. Shmi and Anakin were explaining what it was like to be a slave.

"I can't believe there's still slavery in the galaxy." An aghast Padme extolled. "The Republic's anti-slavery laws—"

"The Republic doesn't exist out here. We must survive on our own." Shmi waved off her soapbox speech.

Jack glanced over to Valter, who was sitting next to him. "Slave Lives Matter, am I right?"

"Jack, please don't—"

Valter's groaning was interrupted by Jar Jar, as his eighty-five meter long tongue shot out of its mouth and loudly slurped up a piece of fruit from the public fruit bowl. Qui-Gon gave the Gungan a rude stare before turning back to his food.

"Well Jack, looks like your own lack of class has been outdone." Valter muttered.

"Scuse me." Jar Jar murmured.

"Has anybody ever seen a podrace?" the young boy spoke up once more. He seemed very passionate about a great many things and was great at breaking the awkward silence or changing subjects, Jack noticed.

Most people shook their head. Jack went along with it as well, since he had never actually watched Episode I and therefore had never seen a podrace.

"They have podracing on Malastare." Qui-Gon recalled. "Very fast, very dangerous."

Anakin beamed. "I'm the only human who can do it."

Qui-Gon's eyebrows rose up. "You must have Jedi reflexes if you race pods."

Jar Jar's seven mile long tongue once again lashed out of his mouth at lightning speed. As if to demonstrate the implications of what he had just said, Qui-Gon's fingers snapped on the creature's tongue before it could even touch the bowl.

He turned to Jar Jar. "Don't do that again."

The creature shrieked in protest, and Qui-Gon let him go.

"You're a Jedi, aren't you?" Anakin asked.

Qui-Gon's head craned. "What makes you think that?"

"I saw your laser sword. Only Jedi carry that kind of weapon."

The Jedi leaned back and slowly smiled. "Perhaps I killed a Jedi and took it from him."

"I don't think so. No one can kill a Jedi."

Qui-Gon's voice suddenly turned somber. "I wish that were so."

"I had a dream I was a Jedi. I came back here to free all the slaves. Have you come to free us?"

He looked down. "No, I'm afraid not."

"I think you have. Why else would you be here?" Anakin pointed one of his eating utensils towards Qui-Gon.

The table was silent for a moment. Qui-Gon appeared to be thinking. Jack also noticed that, while most everyone was eating their food, Umber was staring down at her plate unhappily.

Qui-Gon spoke up once more. "I can see there's no fooling you. Or any of you, for that matter." He cast an unhappy yet accepting glare towards Umber, Jack and Valter.

"We are on our way to Coruscant, the central system of the Republic, on a very important mission."

Something about that didn't make sense to Anakin. "Then how'd you end up out here, in the Outer Rim?"

Padme spoke up this time. "Our ship was damaged, and we're stranded here until we can repair it."

"Likewise… Minus the ship." Jack interjected.

That definitely didn't make sense to Anakin. "Wait, then how did you get here without a ship?"

Umber had this. "Our world is in danger. We came here through a portal, and now we need to find a way towards Kessel." The female scientist explained in a much more coherent fashion than Jack would've been able to muster.

The explanation was received without rebuke, and Anakin returned to Qui-Gon and Padme. "If you guys need your ship fixed, I can help. I can fix anything!"

"I believe you can." Qui-Gon acknowledged the boy. "But first we must acquire the parts we need."

"Wit no-nutten mula to trade." Jar Jar whined.

"I believe that's where you three said you come in." Qui-Gon pointed his finger at the trio. "You said you had some way of getting us our hyperdrive, correct?"

Umber puffed out her cheeks. "Uh…" she turned to Shmi. "Th-These junk dealers must have some kind of weakness."

Did she say the line right?

Shmi rolled her eyes. "Gambling." She groaned. "Everything here revolves around betting on those awful races. Some people will just do anything for money."

"Speaking of which, I never did get paid for my last job." Jack turned to Valter. The doctor didn't look at him.

"I wonder why…" he answered with a dangerous air in his voice. Jack decided not to press the subject further.

"Podracing…" Qui-Gon bobbed his head pensively. "Greed can be a powerful ally, when used appropriately."

"I've built a racer! It's the fastest ever! There's a big race tomorrow, on Boonta Eve. You could enter my pod!" Anakin chimed in.

"Anakin, Watto won't let you." Shmi chided him.

"Watto doesn't know I've built it." He turned to Qui-Gon. "You could make him think it's yours, and get him to let me pilot it for you."

Qui-Gon and Shmi exchanged uncomfortable stares.

Jack noticed that Umber had still not touched the food on her plate.

"I… I don't want you to race." Shmi finally spoke up. "It's awful. I die every time Watto makes you do it."

"But Moooom, I love it. And the prize money would more than pay for the parts they need."

Qui-Gon held up his hand. "Your mother's right, we don't want to risk anyone's safety here. Is there anyone friendly to the Republic who might be able to help us?"

Shmi shook her head helplessly. Anakin stared up at his mother.

"Mom. You said the biggest problem in the universe is that nobody helps each other…"

Shmi closed her eyes and sighed.

"We'll find some other way." Padme assured them.

"No… No…" Shmi waved her head. "I might not like it but… Anakin can help you. He was meant to help you."

Anakin's eyes lit up. "So does that mean…?"

Shmi nodded, and Anakin threw himself at her, hugging her tightly around the shoulders.

"So, it's settled then." Qui-Gon let a crooked smile form on his face. "I shall pretend to take ownership of the podracer, request Anakin be the pilot, and register them for the Boonta Eve event."

Jack adjusted the sling on his left arm and looked over to Umber. "Don't like the food?"

Umber's eyes flashed, and she stared back with sunken shoulders and a guilty expression. "Uh…! No thanks. I'm not hungry." She smiled weakly at Jack. "I'm just trying to think about how they got that droid to be so self-aware. The AI is amazing. If only I could dissect it then…"

Valter bumped her with his elbow, without looking up from his plate. "Eat."

"Really, I'll be fine." She answered in a bit more a panicked tone.

"You don't know when your next opportunity to eat may be." Qui-Gon pointed towards her plate. "If you are without a starship and stranded on a foreign world like you say you are, it would be unwise to let this moment slip by. The food I've brought is nutritious, and will help keep you healthy and energized for some time."

She wiggled side to side for a moment in indecision before she picked up the strange fruit and bit into it. Her face scrunched up for a moment.

"It tastes like a grapefruit but has the texture of a banana." She grunted, swallowing.

The Jedi finally acknowledged their rogue escort. "Your friend in the corner wears the armor of a Mandalorian. They are people of a proud warrior heritage."

Boba Fett didn't acknowledge him, though it was clear even from under the helmet he was staring at him.

"He doesn't talk much." Jack reassured him.

"You say you are not from our world, but you bring with you a Mandalorian. Is there something else I should know?"

Jack and Umber glanced at each other. Valter was still busy eating.

"Nope." Jack shook his head.

"Nothing. Nothing is wrong." Umber conferred.

Qui-Gon was not convinced.


End file.
